


Inheritance

by anniespinkhouse



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, Dystopia, Het, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kid!Fic, Light BDSM, Mpreg, Multi, Past Incest, Polyamory, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 70,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4584510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniespinkhouse/pseuds/anniespinkhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where environmental disaster has created genetic abnormalities and mass infertility, Jensen and his wife Danneel live a modest life. They have no desire to have children by the only means available to them - a government allotted fertile breeder.<br/>When playboy billionaire Miles Padalecki dies, they are shocked to discover that they are named as heirs to the Padalecki estate. Nothing comes without a price though, they must decide whether they will continue to harbor the dangerous secrets that are Miles's legacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Fufaraw for making this better and being incredibly patient with my slow, slow progress. 
> 
> AN: Disclaimer and end note have been updated.
> 
> Disclaimer:This is fiction, pure fantasy folks. Nobody here belongs to me and they’re not likely to get in my van for candy any time soon. While every effort has been made to stay true to the bdsm ethics of SSC in this story it is fiction, the characters are in a different universe and are inexperienced, the events may not be plausible or safe in real life.

Prologue 

Blue tooth, blue tie, he was immersed in the buzz and bark of business. Numbers scrolled on multiple screens; falling, falling, only to rise again. Sell, sell, sell. A buzzer sounded, and the trading week was over.

 

Gray jacket, gray sidewalk, jostling bodies, and bleak skies but Miles wasn’t heading home.

 

There’s a club on the strip, all bouncers and privilege, private tables and private dancers. Inside was pink champagne, pink neon, and an exchange of money for packets of white powder. The bass was banging and the dance floor ebbed and flowed in time with the music. The air reeked of sweat, perfume and drink.

 

He visited the bathroom, snorted a snowy line, then returned to take his pick of bodies that bared bright white teeth and swung hips like animals in heat - all California tan, and surgeon’s lines. Time distorted with vision; he was on edge and ready to move on.

 

He already had everything he needed; a packing body, which was head and shoulders taller than the rest, a bulging wallet, fatter than them all, and a lifestyle that gave him the pick of the crowd. It didn't stop him from wanting more.

 

Miles chose red. Red heels, red dress, red lips, to match his flaming red car which was as sleek as a cheetah with an acceleration to match.

 

It’s a fast life and he had a fast car; the engine growled as lights sparkled and blurred through lashing sleet. He was invincible. He was formula-one with a heartbeat that raced as fast as his engine. His face shone with perspiration that matched the wet sheen of the road.

 

He hardly noticed when the roar of the road subsided into the profound silence of rubber sliding on a slick of water. There was the judder of the anti-lock braking system, and a human scream. The world turned around him in violent technicolor as he was jerked into fear and pain. The soundtrack of the expensive stereo was drowned out by the noise of the car roof scouring the surface of the road. Metal crumpled.

 

Shiny brown hair matted black with the ooze of blood, and his heart stuttered.

 

They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes. All that Miles Padalecki thought, as long lashes closed over hazel eyes, was that there was really only one thing that had ever mattered, and he had fucked it up.

***

Chapter 1

 

They were skin to skin, moving in lazy rhythm. Danneel’s flesh glistened with a fine sheen of perspiration. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her deep brown eyes were open. Her gaze fixed on her husband’s face as her mouth formed an O and she moaned softly.

 

Jensen ran the pads of his fingertips across her warm skin, over her fine structured shoulders, to tangle in the soft red waves of her hair and he smiled as he tugged it, just enough to quicken her breath. He dipped his head to her breast to suck her right nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it and teasing the erect nub with his teeth.

 

Danneel thrust her hips up, grinding against him, and he plunged balls-deep into the wet heat of her cunt, angling it just the way she liked it, so she was thrashing her head and biting her lip. Her hands squeezed the globes of his ass in retaliation and she left half moon fingernail marks.

 

They’d been playing like this; teasing, fucking, kissing and marking, since the sun first filtered through the blinds. He didn’t think either of them could last much longer, but it was so good, he never wanted it to end. He resisted his wife’s attempts to increase the rhythm and he pulled back as she pushed up. He grinned like a naughty schoolboy around the firm mound of her tit.

 

“Jen, god, please, oh c’mon you bastard,”she despaired, playfully pummelling his ass with her fists.

 

“Uh-uh, you said you wanted to make it last.” Jensen licked a stripe from her nipple all the way to her chin and she kissed his cheek.

 

“Please,” she begged with wide puppy eyes and fluttering eyelashes.

 

“Do you concede?” grinned Jensen. He sucked a hickey into the round of her shoulder then returned to her mouth, sharing the salty taste of her perspiration with a deep, hungry kiss. When it ended with a satisfying smack of their lips he rested easily over her on strong arms, and he was no longer fucking her. The tip of his cock circled the wet lips of her cunt and  _shit_ , if she didn’t admit defeat soon, _like right now_ , he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold off from thrusting back inside and fucking her deep and fast until she was full of his come. Willpower, he reminded himself, and thought of his old Aunty Mabel. He stared down at her perfect, flushed face and raised his eyebrows in question.

 

Danni writhed under him and giggled, “I concede. Okay, you win!”

 

“Ha!” Jensen wriggled in delight, and buried his dick in her cunt in one powerful stroke.

 

She gasped. Her fingers grasped his head, and angled her mouth to his once more. They kissed like they made love, passionate and enthusiastic. It was messy and hard, bound to end in swollen lips and weary tongues. Their bodies ground together in similar passion, with Danni’s cunt sliding around his eager shaft, her muscles gripping and squeezing his cock, determined to milk the come from his balls.

 

Her little squeaks and moans heralded a shuddering orgasm and the sudden clampdown on his dick precipitated his own climax. Muscles bulged in his arms and neck as he propelled one last deep thrust. Jensen moaned as he came, “Fuck! So good!”

 

He collapsed on folded elbows over Danni, kissing her red-flushed skin wherever he could reach it. “I love you,” he declared, between panting breaths, “And I want pancakes and coffee for breakfast,” he added with a cheeky glint in his eye.

 

Danneel swatted his ass with the palm of her hand and pushed him to one side as his cock softened and slipped out of her. She lay flat-out, on the rumpled bed-linen like a beached starfish and groaned.

 

They had been married for four years and Jensen never tired of the sight. His wife was beautiful.

 

“It’s a good thing I love you, Jensen,” she muttered.

 

“I conceded the last two weeks. It's about time you have to make breakfast,” Jensen said smugly, and collapsed by her side. “I fucking love Sundays,” he added.

 

She held up five fingers tiredly, and turned to snuggle into his side, “Five minute snooze.”

 

“Five minutes,” he agreed, spooning her close.

 

***

Two hours later, Jensen woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the delicious sight of his freshly showered wife, in silk pajamas and housecoat. There was a breakfast tray piled with pancakes and fruit on the little table by their window, and swirls of steam curled from a coffee jug. A pile of Sunday papers rested next to it all.

 

Jensen rolled himself out of bed to get his own shower and shave. He put on boxer briefs, and helped Danni to change the sheets. They climbed back into bed to sit up with a cup of coffee, a pancake and a section of the newspaper each.

 

Sunday morning - it was just how it always was, on the one day of the week that they cleared their busy schedules to ensure some time together. They sat with arms touching, in amiable companionship with brief exclamations about the news or clues for a crossword.

 

“Hatched, matched and dispatched,” announced Danneel.

 

Jensen put the sports section down. “You’re such a gossip,” he said. “Okay. Who do we know?”

 

Danneel put on her poshest voice, “Mr. and Mrs. Elizabeth Smith-Giles announce their impending marriage with Breeder Amanda McGill. They hope to hear the patter of little feet within the year.”

 

“Danni! They’ve got to be over forty, that’s just wrong. She’s only seventeen.”

 

Danneel shrugged, “Better the devil you know. Who knows who or where she might end up if the McGills leave it until she’s placed in the government matching program. The Smith-Giles’s are mega wealthy and their last breeder – Philip or whatever his name was, seemed healthy and content.”

 

Jensen grimaced, “Yeah, right.”

 

Danni shook her head. “I don’t agree with it, you know I don’t, but…,”

 

He looked her straight in the eyes. “Are you broody? If you want kids…”

 

“No! Not like that. Not until everyone has rights. I like us the way we are, don’t you?”

 

Jensen cupped her cheek and kissed her. “Hey, I don’t want to give up my Sunday mornings, but you do know the chances of you conceiving are almost zero, and I don’t have the equipment to carry a child.”

 

Danneel rolled her eyes. “We're like 90% of the population Jensen, and thank goodness for that, because otherwise it might be me or you being matched to a Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Giles. I never wanted to be brood mare. I don’t want anyone else to be forced to bear our children and I don't see what's so great about stinky nappies and crying brats anyhow. I have you.”

 

“Oh thanks,” Jensen sniffed dramatically, “My nappies don't smell,” he joked.

 

Danni rolled her section of newspaper up and biffed him on the head with it.

 

Jensen pretended to be mortally wounded with a hand over his heart, then straightened to ask a serious question. “Should we send a wedding present?”

 

“I’ll order some flowers, and something nice for Amanda – she’ll get enough baby supplies from everyone else.”

 

Jensen nodded his approval.

 

Danneel snuggled down in the bed and rubbed her foot over Jensen’s bare leg. “Moving on,” she announced, “There are no births that I recognize, but… Jensen…” she looked quizzically at him, “Didn’t you go to university with Miles Padalecki?”

 

Jensen raised his eyebrows. “The one and only? Yeah, why?”

 

She folded the paper and put it in front of him, pointing to a particular section, “Obituaries,” she said. “I remember hearing a report on the radio but I thought I misheard and then I forgot. It was a car crash.”

 

Jensen sat upright and peered at the text. “Crap. I can't believe that he's gone. He was always larger than life. It makes me feel old.” He read a little more, “And poor,” he continued, squinting at the huge fortune and property portfolio that was cited.

 

“Ah, baby. Why aren’t you loaded? You and Miles were frat brothers. You studied together. You could have stayed within the sphere of influence and lived the high life. I would be one of the idle rich.” Danneel feigned a swoon.

 

Jensen became quiet. He furrowed his brow. How long had it been? Miles and Jensen had been close once, yet they hadn't spoken in at least six years. Uncomfortable memories scratched at the surface and he pushed them down. “He was an asshole,” he answered. “We all were.”

 

“You could be a rich asshole,” Danneel joked.

 

He studied the whole obituary, turned the pages to an article that was cross-referenced and read that too, “At least I'm not dead, DUI with a hooker, and no family to succeed me, like Miles,” he remarked without humor. 

 

He finished his breakfast but the pancakes tasted dry and the coffee too bitter. It felt like the shine had been scraped from his day.

***


	2. Chapter 2

 

Outside the City Grind coffee house the sky was heavy with the gray cloud of a looming storm. Cars honked their horns in the street and a steady flow of feet trampled the damp side walk. People talked into cell phones as they weaved through the throng, punctuating their speech with phrases like, “We're giving it our full attention.” and “Outside the box thinking.” Inside, black and white photographs of the district's historic buildings hung on cleanly painted walls and the chill cabinets were artfully filled with an assortment of pastries and cupcakes, but nobody was looking at them. Monday morning was a haze of steam and take out coffee. Business people crowded three deep, shouting orders over the chrome and glass counter. Later, there would be visiting auditors, clerks celebrating birthdays and students who would take time to choose a treat carefully, but those with big money to make took their morning caffeine without pausing to look away from their cellphone screens.

 

Danneel kept one eye on the line and another on the booths with their shiny gray tables and faded black vinyl seats. She rang up orders and bagged snacks while Osric worked the coffee machine and Genevieve steamed milk beside him, almost bumping shoulders. 

At 9.30 business had slowed to a manageable level and Danneel was ready to take a break. She prepared a double espresso in an insulated cup and chose a pecan and maple pastry to drop into a take-out bag. She shrugged off her apron and flicked her hair with her fingers. “Can you hold the fort for ten minutes, Osric?”

 

The young barista rolled his eyes and grinned at his boss. “Are you certain you're married to that man of yours? It sure looks like an affair to me,” he teased.

 

Danneel poked a finger at him, “This is how we stay married, young skywalker; care and co-operation. Watch and learn.”

 

Genevieve paused to flick Osric's ear with thumb and forefinger, “Owned!” she declared.

 

“Ow! Yeah, yeah, so sweet it makes me want to barf,” Osric said good-naturedly. Beside him, Genevieve returned to working with quiet concentration, but a faint smile played on her lips. Gen was new to the business, and she was still shy with Danneel but she didn't seem to have any problems getting along with Osric. She was a quick learner, and the customers liked her. In a few weeks Danni was sure that Gen would be one of the gang and every bit as likely to sass her as Osric.

 

She shrugged on a jacket and made her way out to the side walk. Somebody stepped into her path and she bumped into a wall of middle-aged businessman, all fine clothing and solid chest. “ _Oomph.”_ Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and she silently thanked an unknown deity for the foresight of carrying the coffee in a sealed cup.

 

“Terribly sorry, my dear. Are you hurt?” The accent was English, the smile forced, and cold brown eyes assessed her.

 

Danneel stepped aside, too dazed to make much sense, “Yeah, y’know, fine.” She waved her hand in dismissal.

 

“Perhaps we should go inside?” Crows feet appeared around his eyes as the man narrowed them to study Danneel. His words weren’t unfriendly but his gaze made her uncomfortable.

 

“I’d be fine, if people could look at where they’re going instead of what they’re texting,” she snapped, and backed away a little more hasty than necessary.

 

“Well. At least I was bein’ polite,” the man retorted. He smirked at Danneel and a shiver of unease traveled her spine. She felt his gaze even as she crossed the street but when she looked back he was gone.

 

Danneel breathed deep. She was sure she’d just overreacted and made an idiot of herself. Osric would think it hilarious. She calmed down and finished the short walk to an unremarkable red-brick office building, with a foyer that had seen better days. Security waved her through with a familiar “Good morning,” and she replied the same. She stopped briefly to pat her hair into place before peeping around a blue-painted door into a small office.

 

Jensen ran his hand through his hair as he sat in front of his computer screen. He wore an adorable pre-coffee frown and was flicking through pieces of paper in a file, muttering something unrepeatable about Monday mornings. Danni knocked lightly, swung the door open and leaned on the door frame. “I guess you’re about ready for this then?” she asked, and lifted the cup and bag for him to see.

 

“Oh my god, yes!” He yawned and rubbed his neck. “I hate Mondays. Did I ever tell you that?”

 

“I think you may have mentioned it once or twice.”

 

Jensen kicked his wheeled chair back and his voice softened as she settled her very trim ass on the corner of his desk. “Hey you. Busy morning?” he asked. He wasted no time in tearing the paper bag and grabbing the pastry for an enthusiastic bite, followed by a slurp of coffee.

 

“As ever. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

“You could expand your business,” he said. Pastry flakes gathered on his lips and he wiped them with a napkin.

 

It was an old suggestion. Danni grinned and hopped off her perch to straddle his legs, facing him. He raised his eyebrows and wriggled enthusiastically under her.

 

“And I might be too busy to bring pastries and too tired for sex, and then where would we be?” she purred, before planting a wet kiss on his lips and getting up. She smoothed his clothes. “Well, I have to get back. Don’t kill anyone before you finish that coffee.”

 

She didn’t stay. Jensen worked hard as a project manager for a social housing charity and there was always some crisis that he had to find workers or resources to cover. She waved as she left his office and he blew her a kiss.

 

A chorus of “Hey Danneel!” and “Good Morning!"s from Jensen’s colleagues followed her route.

 

***

 

Yes, sometimes Jensen’s co-workers teased him about his saccharine-sweet morning routine, about the way he watched the clock to leave on time, and how he always remembered his wedding anniversary, but he went home with a wife who was successful, hot and funny, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it.

 

Jensen could have had a top-flight career, he was sure that was what most of his friends from the old days would say. It was rare to hear from any of them now. They were the movers and shakers of the financial world, living in classy real estate and wearing designer shoes, while he settled into middle management and a middle class life.

 

When he was not long out of Harvard, Jensen had chosen to work for a charity, to plump out his resume and assuage his father’s expectations. If at first he happened to stay a little longer in the job than necessary, so that he could impress the girl who managed the coffee shop across the road – well that was nobody else’s business. Then, when he fell hard for her and she had the chance to buy that coffee shop, staying nearby to help make it a reality only made sense. Besides, Jensen actually liked his job. He worked in a small friendly team and what they did genuinely helped people. He got the feel good factor and enough free time to help Danni too; he brewed a mean vanilla mocha latte. His life was what he had chosen and he was happy,  _he was._  It was only that sometimes… he clicked an internet tab and brought up an image of the huge Padalecki mansion featured on the news… yes, sometimes he wondered if he had missed out on fast cars, parties and pools. He shook his head, finished his coffee, closed the tab, and opened his business mail. It was pointless thinking like that. After all, money hadn’t done Miles any favors.

 

He looked through his mail. Window fittings sent for the Kripke Building were the wrong size, a door was broken on a domestic property and one of his electricians had put in a vacation request. He cleared his head and concentrated on his work.

 

Later, he would think back to this day and wonder if there had been any clues to the way their steady life would be shattered into something unrecognizable, but there was no poetic foreshadowing, only an email from Danneel, asking him to finish up early and join her. It was mildly annoying because she  _knew_  how Mondays could be for him. He was snappy when he got there, shaking raindrops from his coat, “What? Did somebody drop a bomb?” His irritation dissolved when he saw the way her shoulders dropped and she exhaled in relief to see him. He put his arm around her and guided her to a booth. “What happened?”

 

The only remaining customer in the shop clicked his fingernails on the table, tactfully looked away, and sipped his chai tea.

 

“I’m being stupid. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have - only it was quiet so I let Osric and Gen go early because there's some gaming convention in town and they've both been babbling about it all day. Then there was this customer, but he’s gone now. He left just before you arrived. I’m sorry.”

 

“What did he do?” Jensen almost exploded as he looked toward the door for a glimpse of the person who had upset Danneel, but there was nobody.

 

Danni shook her head, “Nothing, that’s just it. It’s silly. He just…I bumped into him this morning, on the street and I was kind of rude, and that was it, but then he turned up here about an hour ago…”

 

“And…” Jensen flexed his fingers into a closed fist.

 

“And he was perfectly polite; too polite. And he drank tea and he watched me close up the counter, and it just…he made my skin crawl and I wanted you here. Sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh god, he’s probably working locally and going to tell his colleagues how unfriendly the City Grind is.”

 

Jensen rubbed a reassuring circle on her back with his palm. “I might have something to say if he did. Do you want me to get rid of Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome over there and help you close and lock up?”

 

They both looked at the last customer, who seemed to be taking an age to finish his tea.

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Danni managed a bashful laugh with a muttered, “I’m an idiot.”

 

The customer was draining his cup when Jensen approached him. He was dark skinned, slim and elegant, with impeccable dress sense.  _Banker or lawyer,_ thought Jensen _,_ both equally as likely in this district.

 

The man looked up at him. “Best cup of tea, I’ve had in a long time,” he complimented.

 

“We would offer to refill your cup, but you may have noticed that it is past closing time for us.” Jensen spoke politely, this man had caused no trouble for his wife.

 

“Indeed. I shouldn’t delay you from going home. You’ll be going home together I assume?” The man lifted his own hand to indicate a marriage band and waved at Danneel. It was an easy, friendly gesture. “Well, then, I have to deliver this.” He slid a black-edged envelope across the table top to Jensen. “I’m glad to see that you look after Mrs. Ackles,” he said before holding his right hand out in an offer to shake Jensen’s, “Hodge, Aldis Hodge, legal representative for the Padalecki estate. I expect I'll see you both again at Miles’s funeral.”

 

Jensen took his hand for a vigorous shake, his mouth opened, but no words formed.

 

The lawyer paused a beat, as if expecting a barrage of questions, but Jensen hadn’t managed to vocalize any. He picked up a black leather case and offered his card. “Anything you need to know, anytime, you can get hold of me on this number. Miles was very specific in his wishes.”

Aldis tipped a salute to Danneel and shook his umbrella open as he slipped through the door of the City Grind. A $20 tip and the black edged envelope were left behind in the booth where he had sat.

 

Danneel and Jensen looked at each other and looked at the envelope. Jensen picked it up and broke the seal with a butter knife.

 

_Mr. Jensen Ackles and Mrs. Danneel Ackles_

_Your presence is cordially requested at the funeral and celebration of the life of Miles Andrew Padalecki._

_in the Ballroom, Helix House, Padalecki Estate._

_Wednesday 17th February at 11.00 a.m._

_Entrance by invitation only._

 

_{By Miles's request: semi-formal attire and donations to B*Right charitable mission in lieu of flowers please}_

 

Jensen turned the card over in his hand, he looked thoughtful, "I don't know why," he said.

Danneel looked horrified, "That's in less than two days and I haven't a thing to wear."

***

 

They brought a coffin home to Jared on a Monday when the rain lashed through the air, almost horizontal in the wind, but it wasn’t Miles. It couldn’t be. There was no vibrancy, no heat and no color to the box. It was wood and bones, nothing more. Miles did some stupid things; sometimes he got drunk, he got high or got lucky and stayed out until he dragged himself from his stupor. He always came home in the end. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t dead. Miles would be home in a minute, an hour, a day. He’d come home soon. He had to.

***


	3. Chapter 3

Danneel hated the smell of Calla lilies. She wrinkled her nose as the cloying scent clashed with maybe a dozen different designer perfumes and the smell of fine champagne and pastries. It was sure to give her a headache.

  
They sat awkwardly on a bright white sofa atop a plush white carpet, in a ballroom full of the subdued conversation of people dressed in black. Voile curtains swayed and shivered around double glass doors to a terrace where planters overflowed with ostentatious displays of the oriental lilies with phlox and blue iris.

 

Danni pulled self-consciously at the hem of her department store dress “She’s wearing Anna Sui,” she hissed at her husband as yet another ‘Elle-model’ stepped gracefully past them, sipping champagne. “I should have gone shopping.”

 

“Would you have bought anything nearly as expensive?” Jensen replied.

 

“No!”

 

“Then calm down, you look beautiful, and it’s not like Miles can care.”

 

“It’s easy for you to say. Your suit is bespoke.”

 

“That’s because it’s old, and Miles has seen it several times, but like I say, he doesn’t care right now.”

 

“But it’s not him looking at us! Why are we even here?”

 

“Because he was my friend, and apparently he wanted us to be here.”

 

“I didn’t know him.”

 

“He met you, he liked you, and he loved your coffee.”

 

Danneel pouted. “Don’t be a suck-up, Jensen. You hardly saw each other after we met, and he didn’t come to our wedding. All your friends dropped you because they thought I was a gold digger. They said I was using you to get the coffee shop.”

 

Jensen draped his arm around her shoulder and his hand burrowed under her hair. Fingers softly caressed the back of her neck. “Hey! I dropped them and I dropped the lifestyle because it wasn’t for me. Miles was an addict and an asshole but he never said that. He saw how important you were to me and he thought were good for me. He said you were an excellent investment and the coffee shop made it an even better deal.”

 

She elbowed him sharply in his side. “Hey! I'm not a commodity, and besides, you have to say nice things, it’s his funeral.”

 

“Yeah, well, someone has to. I seem to be the only one of the old gang who came. I don't know if any of the others were asked.”

 

“Well nobody was getting through the gate without an invite, for sure,” said Danneel, “And half of these look like they could be security. Do they think that somebody is going to kidnap the body?”

 

“More like steal the silver,” commented Jensen.

 

“Oh c'mon. It's the cream of the banking and elite world. Like they need anything,” Danneel whispered back.

 

“They're the biggest thieves of them all,” hissed Jensen.

 

Danneel had to stifle a giggle.

 

Jensen looked around the room again. There was a crowd, for sure but there were no red eyes and he didn’t recognize many. Impeccably dressed hyenas, he mused.

 

Somebody cleared their throat and they looked up at a waiter offering hors d’oeuvres. “Mm, don’t mind if I do,” Jensen’s hand hovered over exquisite bite-sized food and Danneel leaned over to choose something, suddenly more enthusiastic.

 

The waiter pointed helpfully, “Shrimp takati here and scallop and bacon bites on this side of the tray.”

 

Danni closed her eyes as she tasted, “Oh! That is… that is amazing. Who is the supplier?”

 

The waiter looked at the floor and back at Danneel. “Miles’s own chef prepared the food, madam.”

 

“Oh! Um.” She wanted the floor to open and swallow her.

 

“Should I give your compliments to the chef?” The waiter rescued her with aplomb.

 

“Definitely. Thank you.” Danneel agreed. She turned to her husband and grimaced, she needed some space. She had never felt so out of her depth, except perhaps at her own wedding when Jensen’s elderly aunt, had inquired whether they had met at Danneel's debutante ball and when would they be ‘buying’ a breeder to have their children?

 

Danneel patted Jensen’s knee. “I have to go powder my nose. I’ll get some air on my way.” She pointed to the empty terrace.

 

“Do you want me to go with you?” His concern was obvious.

 

“No! That would look dumb. Besides you should say your goodbyes.” She indicated the closed coffin that sat on a raised dais in the center of the room.

 

“They’re having the eulogy soon,” reminded Jensen.

 

“I’ll be back,” she promised.

 

When she looked back from the terrace Jensen was already standing by the golden-handled coffin speaking words she didn’t need to know. Miles had never been a part of her life, and all of this was as needlessly flashy and over the top as his life had been. She almost tripped as she turned away, “Oh hell, sorry,” she apologized. The day wasn’t getting any better.

 

The small child who had caused her to unbalance ducked away and also mumbled, “Sorry.” At about five years old, the girl had a shock of strawberry blonde hair, tamed with a green ribbon and she was dainty in a black lace dress and gold sandals.

 

“Milly, you shouldn’t be here.”

 

The child shot a wide-eyed glance at Danneel through thick eyelashes and ran off into the arms of a tall man who lifted her up, spun her around and then hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. “You okay, poppet?”

 

“Unca Chris said Pa was in the bawroom.”

 

The strong arms that enveloped the child squeezed tighter and the soft brown hair that blew around the man’s face couldn’t hide tears that swelled in hazel eyes. “No. Poppet. He’s not here.”

 

“But Unca Chris…,” the child whined.

 

“Was mistaken, and he needs some help in the kitchen. We should go help him, yes?”

 

“But daddy…,”

 

Milly!”

 

“Okay,” conceded Milly, as she snuggled against the man’s chest and put her thumb in her mouth.

 

The man looked at Danneel, appraising her from her Gap shoes to her old black hat.

 

“Are you lost?” he asked.

 

“Looking for the little room,” she admitted.

 

He gave her directions and she couldn’t help staring. It wasn’t only that he was an intensely handsome man, or even that the man and child made the cutest of sights, not even that a child, in these infertile days, was a rare sight at an adult event. No, the thing that she found hard to shake was that Miles Padalecki, _only child, no living family_ , was lying in a coffin less than a hundred feet away and yet this stranger was almost the image of how Danneel remembered Miles.

 

Her memory had to be playing tricks. She tore her gaze away and went to powder her nose.

 

***

 

The eulogy was delivered by a minor Bloomberg reporter; whose name Jensen could never quite remember; who had hung around Miles since his first months out of school at Goldman Sachs. It was full of wry witticism and references to the money Miles made and the many ways he found to spend it. The words were starkly bare of real affection and seemed to ignore the deeply private aspect of Miles, overwhelmed by the colorful veneer of his public misdeeds and addictions.

 

Jensen remembered how Miles would share his money and drugs, open rooms of his house to whores and friends and laugh at his own notoriety, but when he was alone he rarely smiled. When he was working, the gamble and the numbers were all he ever needed, but then there were cold morning hangovers or philosophizing at midnight when he was too sober or too high to sleep. Side by side with his own self-loathing Miles had clutched on to ideals. He had poured money into breeders’ rights campaigns in a vain attempt to separate himself from the generations of his family before him who had shaken off the genetic disaster caused by their businesses, only to back a political stance which took away the rights of those rare few who still possessed the miracle of producing new, healthy life.

 

That was the thing about being only child and heir to the Padalecki estate, a fortune built on other people’s misfortunes; it was bound to have left scars. There had been a whole other universe in Miles, but most people had only seen his birthright and his excesses. It made Jensen indescribably sad.

 

Danneel slipped back beside Jensen. Her warm hand curled into his and squeezed reassurance. There were a few sniffs from around the room and a number of people wiped their faces with handkerchiefs. Perhaps Bloomberg-guy’s words had been on-point after all.

 

The music that blared the moment the eulogy finished was a surprise, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. “Blood on my Name” by The Wright Brothers was Miles’s last laugh, an ironic twist of irreverent humor that could only have been chosen by him. He had always subscribed to the James Dean school of thought - live fast; die young. Of course he would have planned his own funeral. A few shaky voices joined in with the first verse and soon enough the entire room was singing along.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Ackles,” Aldis Hodge appeared by their side speaking over the music and offered his hand to Danneel, “There is a car waiting for you, for the internment. The hearse will lead with Miles, a security vehicle will follow, and your car will be next. It is a short ride in the grounds, to the Padalecki family crypt and there will be few formalities. Feel free to say a few words if you wish.”

 

Jensen’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, “I thought it was a private burial.”

 

“It is, sir. According to Miles’s wishes, you are to be regarded as family. Household members and select friends will also attend. Security will keep the paparazzi at a distance, but we will not be able to avoid it entirely.”

 

Danneel’s mouth gaped a little. “This is a joke, right Jensen?”

 

Aldis Hodge and Jensen both looked at her and Aldis answered, “Not at all madam. Miles had great respect for you.”

 

Jensen decided not to think too hard, “Right, good, well lead on.”

 

The car was traditional, a black limousine with blacked windows. Danneel sat stiffly on the leather seat with her hands in her lap. She was over-thinking; Jensen could read her like a book.

 

He reached for hand and she snatched it away.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“You promised me.”

 

“What?!”

 

“I knew there was more, but you promised me.”

 

“Danni! Miles and I were never an item,”

 

“You were attracted to him. You said so.”

 

“Miles is … ugh, _was_ never interested in me sexually. We were friends.”

 

It was an old thorn in their relationship, from the first days of their courtship when nights fuelled with drugs and alcohol had left lies on his lips. He was bisexual and had never lied about that, nevertheless he had deceived her and cheated on her in their first year together.

 

“Then explain all this,” Danni ground out through clenched teeth.

 

“I can’t. I really can’t, baby. It’s just…Miles, the unpredictable fucking asshole.” He smoothed a hand over her knee and she huffed and let him. “Please, Danni,” he pleaded.

 

“And my dress is fucking ‘Next’ and my hat is old, and there are cameras everywhere. What even happens at a crypt? Why couldn’t he be normal? Why couldn’t you?” She whacked her handbag ineffectually against his arm and he waited for what inevitably followed when Danni got dramatic.

 

She laughed. “Sorry.”

 

“You done? You should probably try not to laugh when we get out of this car.” Jensen was smiling too.

 

“I do believe you, I do, honey, but, all this, I’m waiting for tv cameras to show up and tell us we’ve been pranked, and I know that’s awful – poor Miles.”

 

The car came to a halt and they became quiet. They remembered that they had a driver and Jensen was embarrassed that their private life had played out in front of him. The driver was a professional and opened their doors with a poker face.

 

In front of the mausoleum a man and women stood next to the lead car. Side-arms bulged under black suits and they watched their surroundings rather than the progress of the coffin. Headsets completed the impression that they were bodyguards for a dead man.

 

Jensen concentrated his attention on the coffin as they stood behind it, apparently as lead mourners. There were six pallbearers. He knew three of them, they were Miles’s colleagues and he tried to recall their names. Two, he had heard mentioned, were members of Miles’s household staff, Christian Kane, Miles’s chef, and Travis Wade, his chauffeur. He was trying to place the sixth when Danni tugged his sleeve and tilted her head toward the same pallbearer.

 

“Who is he?” she asked, covering her mouth with her hand in an effort to be subtle.

 

Jensen shook his head, “No idea,”

 

“It’s him,” she hissed back at Jensen.

 

They moved forward in a solemn procession, “Who?” he whispered back.

 

“From the day we got the invitations, the man at our coffee shop.”

 

Heavy wooden doors opened and the air was clean and cool around them. Jensen looked more carefully at the sixth pallbearer.

 

“The one who upset you?” He had a sudden dislike for the man.

 

“Not upset. Don’t get funny with him,” Danneel warned under her breath.

 

They stopped in an alcove in front of a raised stone platform and there was only the sound of the coffin sliding on rollers into its final resting place. Faces turned expectantly to Jensen and he remembered what Aldis had said. He cleared his throat, “Miles believed in living life while he was alive, he said he could sleep when he was dead. Well, here’s to a peaceful sleep. It will be a less colorful world without him.”

 

Danneel leaned her head on his shoulder, “Nice one,” she said. Several others muttered their approval.

 

It was over in less than ten minutes. Jensen and Danneel headed outside. Jensen blinked in the daylight and then blinked again, looking in the direction of the waiting cars. He could have sworn that Miles stood by the security car, looking at the mausoleum, with a small child by his side.

 

“Well, that was anti-climactic,” a growly English voice brought his attention back to the funeral.

 

“Huh?”

 

“All these people, but what do they really know, right?” The sixth pallbearer shook his hand firmly. “The name is Mark Sheppard. Friend of Miles’s. Besties actually,” He leaned in conspiratorially, “I believe we’re both named in the will but he better not have left the bloody Ferrari for me. Last I heard he turned it into a tin can.”

 

Jensen frowned.

 

“Too soon?” Mark Sheppard raised his eyebrows and smirked.

 

“Yeah, a little,” Jensen shut him down.

 

“Precious,” Mark said, and wandered off to introduce himself to the woman wearing the Anna Sui dress suit.

 

“Ugh. I still don’t like him,” Danneel shivered and pulled her husband toward their limousine. There were two watchful bodyguards by the security car, no sign of a child and definitely no ghost of Miles.

 

***

 

The crowd dissipated and Aldis asked Danneel and Jensen to join him. They sat in Miles’s office for the reading of the will. Jensen wondered what nonsense Miles had planned for him and fervently hoped that it wasn’t anything that Danneel could find suspicious. No jewelry or toys (of the sexual or cuddly variety) please. Mark Sheppard joined them. He paced the polished wooden floor in squeaky shoes, with his chest puffed out and an excited glow to his cheeks.

 

When the details were announced in Aldis’s calm, smooth manner, he was asked to repeat them, by both Jensen and Mark. Danneel reeled in shock, without a word.

 

“The house and his personal inheritance. Wh-what? Why?” Jensen stuttered, eventually.

 

“What the bloody hell, is that. We were friends. Besties! He owed me!” Mark was quietly furious.

 

“Business was the basis of your friendship, and Miles bequeathed a good proportion of his trading business and investments to you, Mr. Sheppard. I think you will agree that he was a successful trader and it is a very generous portfolio. There are also a few personal effects and of course his Bugatti Veyron. If you wish to contest the will, then I will have to hold back the items and all the documentation during probate.

 

“But the market moves so fast, by then it would all be bloody useless!”

 

“Which is why you must make a choice Mr. Sheppard. There can be a smooth immediate transition of business that the IRS is willing to accept, with conditions and a later audit. Obviously, you will have to keep thorough records. However, in the event that you dispute the will, the law will not allow such a transition. I’m sure you know that.” Aldis sat back and waited for Mark to consider his options.

 

“Got me by the bloody short and curlies,” Mark complained.

 

“I’m sure you know the way out Mr. Sheppard. Call by our offices in the morning to sign papers, yes?”

 

Mark’s eyes narrowed and he left with a flounce in his step. The door closed behind him.

 

Aldis rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Now, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but I can only answer the legal ones,” he started.

 

***

 

“Take a look around,” Aldis Hodge had encouraged, and Jensen led the way, showed Danneel the pool and barbecue area, the vast, public rooms and hotel-perfect guest bedrooms. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a building the size of a large house, with glass sliding doors that extended from ceiling to floor of the ground level “Oh, you have to see the garage.”

 

Danneel stared wide eyed at the array of parked cars. There was a faint odor of gas and oil but the overall smell was of wax polish and leather. The floor was of smooth latex in black with a swirling silver pattern. Muffled strains of a jazz band could be heard coming from somewhere nearby but it wasn't obvious where.

 

“This isn't a garage it's a showroom!”

 

Jensen pointed out the Bugatti bequeathed to Mark Sheppard, a vintage Porsche Carrera and a number of customized SUV and sports models, before stopping by a big old American muscle car. “Wow! Baby! He kept it.” He ran a reverent hand over it's black shiny hood.

 

“What is that?” Danneel let herself join in with her husband's enthusiasm.

 

“Chevy Impala 1967. Miles swapped a Merc for it. Said he wanted to go incognito, but a group of dudes being dicks and hanging out of this were always going to get noticed. It was awesome anyway. They don't make 'em like this any more.”

 

And that one. That is truly anonymous.” Danneel pointed to an economy model Toyota which was parked in the far corner of the garage. There was a child seat in the rear and Disney sunshades obscured the side windows.

 

Jensen took a look around it and shrugged. “Maybe that's what the staff get to use.”

 

The hum of an elevator at the rear of the garage interrupted their musing.

 

“What's above here?” Danneel asked, in mild panic.

 

“Staff apartments I think,” answered Jensen.

 

Doors swished open on an elegant lady, perhaps in her mid 40's with shoulder length blonde hair and a gentle smile. She held a small set of pruning shears in gloved hands. “Oh, I thought you were Travis. We don't have many others come here. Sorry.” She frowned and looked at them again. “Are you lost?”

 

“No, no. Um. This is Danneel and I'm Jensen. Aldis Hodge said we should take a look around.”

 

“Oh, the Ackles's! I see.” She peeled a green fabric glove from her hand and extended it to shake theirs. “Sam. Samantha Smith. I look after the estate grounds. I suppose you could call me the head gardener but it's more of a managerial post these days. I potter about the garden and make decisions but most of our labor is contracted to local businesses. You don't need the speech today though. We are all sad to lose Miles. I don’t like the pomp of funerals but I was going to prune a few of his favorite shrubs. Have to keep busy, y'know.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Danneel agreed. “Do you live up there, then?” she asked, pointing to the elevator.

 

“Was a time a lot more of us did. These days it's only Travis, Christian and myself. Times have changed.”

 

“You were the head gardener when old man Padalecki was alive?” Jensen couldn't disguise his surprise.

 

Samantha grinned, “He narrowed down the applicants to two for interview. We both had the right experience, a Sam Smith and a Silas Wilson, but he didn't ask for photographs. It turned out that Silas was black and being female was marginally preferable.”

 

“And yet you stayed?”

 

“Oh, you do know a little of the family! Yes. I kept away from the old man, wrote notes and reports. It worked well enough. His boys were about as different from him as could be; irresponsible but nevertheless generous, so it was easy to stay on when Miles asked me to. Besides, the grounds are an amazing canvas for an ambitious gardener and there was a horrible stand of monkey puzzle trees that needed to go. It's a rhododendron garden now.” Sam lifted her pruning shears in salute, “Well, I'm gossiping. You must have a lot to see. I'll get along. Let me know what plants you'd especially like to see in the borders won't you?” She was moving again, already halfway to the exit. “As long as it's not monkey puzzle trees,” she added teasingly.

 

“Is that your car?” Danneel asked impulsively, pointing to the Toyota.

 

“That? No. It's Jared's,” Sam laughed.

 

They wanted to ask who Jared was but she was already away, rounding the corner, holding her shears like she meant business.

 

After that, they returned to Helix House, a family home bigger than many hotels. They gave a shy greeting to staff cleaning the reception rooms after the funeral, before setting out to investigate the private family areas. They explored a labyrinth of corridors, using different keys from a small metal box, opening doors, finding store cupboards, bedrooms, a nursery, a library, sitting rooms and offices. They peered briefly into an enormous kitchen where a wild looking chef wearing a bright red bandanna berated his assistants for leaving crumbs on the sides of the shiny granite surfaces.

 

It still seemed spotlessly tidy, almost as if nobody had ever lived there. That was until they reached what had to be Miles’s bedroom. It was an enormous suite, with a mixture of fine art and cheap posters on the wall. It hadn’t been cleaned. The bed remained unmade with rumpled silk sheets and there were clothes crumpled on the floor and over a sofa. X-Box discs reflected light from where they were carelessly strewn, and game controllers were abandoned on the bed covers and cushions. Potato chips were ground into the deep pile of the carpet and a glass of water stood on the night stand.

 

To Jensen the room embodied Miles, who never quite fit into the privileged background he had been born into, and who was determined not to grow up, or grow old. It seemed he had achieved that at least.

 

Danneel raised her eyebrows, “Well, that’s weird. You’d think they’d have tidied.”

 

“Probably had to be left for the inquest,” commented Jensen.

 

“Do you think there are drugs in here?” asked Danneel.

 

Jensen shook his head. “Not any more.”

 

They closed the door behind them and continued to the end of the corridor, which ended in a plain white door with a spy hole for the opposite side, like a door to an apartment. They tried every key but nothing would unlock it.

 

“The butler’s quarters,” Jensen joked, and then leaned against the wall and tilted his head at Danneel. “I think that’s just about it all. So, what do you think?” he asked.

 

Of course, if they were being pranked, then Danneel had no doubt there would be microphones everywhere, picking up each word. Now was not the time to argue. It didn’t stop her. She was fractious and short-tempered.

 

“Look at it. It’s amazing. I mean I could really love all this…stuff, but there’s nothing wrong with our apartment. This house, this money it's surreal. It can't be ours, and it’s blood money, Jensen. It was made off the back of a whole generation who died too soon. Don’t sugar-coat it. That’s what the Padalecki legacy is; genetic poison, millions of early deaths and two generations, god knows how many more, of genetic abnormalities. That was the investment that made their fortune, that built this house.”

 

“It was never proven.”

 

“Because Miles’s grandpappy sold off Pad-Chem and got into politics before its collapse, where he made even more money from neo-slavery, because that’s what the government matching scheme is. Billions made from enslaving from the very people we should be pro…,”

 

Jensen crowded her against the wall, mouth over hers, kissed her silent, before drawing back with a look that flashed caution at her. “Look, we only have to try it out. We can manage to live here for six months, even a year. It would be like a holiday. You could swim every morning before work. God, imagine not having to worry about our finances.”

 

Danneel narrowed her eyes and huffed at him. “Silk sheets and someone else to bring us Sunday breakfast in bed.” 

 

Jensen spoke gently, “It would be our fortune, to spend on projects we choose, instead of it all being absorbed by the government.”

 

Danneel came back to her senses. What if there were microphones? _Stupid, stupid! Danneel_. She remembered the man on the terrace. “It’s all a set-up anyway, right?” That all this could really be theirs seemed impossible to her.

 

“What makes you say that? Why would Miles stage a hoax as big as this?”

 

She shook her head and flailed her arms, “I don’t know, maybe because he's the sort of asshole who would think it was funny. I thought I saw Miles earlier, just before the eulogy.”

 

He frowned, “That’s odd. I thought I saw him at the mausoleum.”

 

They looked at each other in shock.

 

“I don’t believe this,” Jensen muttered.

 

“So, we end this right now. We go back to that attorney, or whatever he is, say yes, sign whatever agreements he wants us to sign and then let them make fun of us, and then we get to punch Miles, right?”

 

“He’s gonna need facial reconstruction,” Jensen growled.

***

 

Aldis handed Jensen a smooth steel pen, “So you each sign, here and here, and here.” He pointed out different paragraphs in the contract. “You are agreeing to make Helix House your permanent residence from today, and to maintain the household without removing any member of the household for at least as long as probate takes. That could be up to two years. You cannot sell or invest any part of the main estate until probate is complete and the IRS are satisfied with the financial status. Until then, there are adequate available funds for living more than comfortably. In addition, you are agreeing to a unique privacy clause. You cannot publicly reveal any of Miles’s private details or living arrangements. In the event that law enforcement require such information, then you must ensure that you obtain approved legal representation through me.”

 

Jensen and Danneel looked at each other with a knowing grin and signed with a flourish. They tensed waiting for laughter and fuss.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Aldis pocketed his pen and filed the papers in his briefcase, “I offer my condolences for the loss of your friend, Mr. and Mrs. Ackles. The paparazzi will be gathered like vultures so I suggest that you send Mr. Wade to collect your essential belongings. I will be available to advise you at any time, and you should not concern yourselves with the cost. Miles had an arrangement with me.”

 

Danneel started to giggle and Aldis frowned at her.

 

“Oh come on. None of this is real. Game over. Miles can come out now,” she sing-songed.

 

“We saw him, man.” Jensen tugged the lapel of Aldis’s suit. “Nice get up,” he grinned.

 

Aldis pushed Jensen’s hand away and smoothed the fabric. “Ah, no. I can assure you that this is all very real and unfortunate. The man you saw would be Jared.”

 

They both stopped laughing. Aldis looked serious, and a little sad.

 

“Jared who?” asked Jensen.

 

Aldis picked up his briefcase. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly uncomfortable.

 

“You signed a silence clause.” The attorney tapped his briefcase, “Look, don’t do anything hasty. Talk to Jared and to the rest of the household. I’m aware that you hadn’t been in contact with Miles for a while before his death, but he trusted you with this. Miles was a hedonist, and there was little he cared for, but this one thing he did. He cared more than he should. He chose you for a reason. It would be a pity to prove him wrong.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Jensen and Danneel said, together.

 

“Like I say, take some time to grieve and to adjust.” He slid a business card over the desk at Danneel, “This might be useful.”

 

She turned it in her hand, reading the text,

 

_‘McNiven Associates_

_Attorneys at Law._

_Specialists in Breeder Law.’_

 

Aldis strode the distance of the room and opened the door, to leave. He turned back for a moment, “Strictly off the record, watch your back with Mark Sheppard. He is nobody’s friend.”

 

Then he was gone, leaving Jensen and Danneel wealthier than in their wildest dreams, in a vast house with only strangers to guide them.

 

“I wonder where we keep the Tylenol,” wondered Danneel, “I have a terrible headache coming on.”

  
Jensen looked dumbstruck. “I wish I knew,” he sighed.

_***_

_Comments are candy for my soul. I would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far._


	4. Chapter 4

 

The kitchen seemed the obvious place to find everybody, and even if they didn’t, they would find medicines, coffee or liquor.

 

They found Miles’s chef, Christian Kane, alone now the catering staff had left. A mop of dark brown hair was pushed back with his colorful head scarf to reveal bright blue eyes in a wide face. He wasn’t quite as tall as Jensen, but he was well proportioned and muscular. He wiped a floury hand on a cloth and proffered a large palm to shake.

 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, “Hors D’Oeuvres don’t exactly fill a hole.”

 

“We could do with some Tylenol,” said Jensen.

 

Kane slid a drawer open in the main kitchen island took out a blister pack of painkillers and threw it to Jensen, “Too much champagne?”

 

“Just too much,' Jensen replied.

 

“Well, in that case Miles went out exactly the way he would have wanted.”

 

“It was very _Miles_ , wasn't it? The champagne was a great vintage.” Jensen smiled wryly.

 

“There could have been more noise and damage but I'm sure there were a few guests snorting lines in the bathroom.” Kane didn't look like he was joking. He seemed to stare Jensen in the eyes for a while before continuing, “But not you.”

 

“Been clean a long time,” Jensen confirmed.

 

Kane nodded. “Good.”

 

***

Jared stopped outside the kitchen door when he heard their voices. He didn't go in. Maybe if he didn't acknowledge the change in the household he could pretend it wasn't happening, just for a while.

 

Jensen hadn't changed much. His voice had maybe lowered a little and his suit wasn't high fashion any longer. He still stood a head shorter than Jared with short, dirty blond hair that invited fingers to mess it up. Freckles don't go away, and a pouting mouth like _that_ doesn't change shape. Jared hadn't gotten close enough to see if his eyes were as green as he remembered. There were differences though. Miles had said so, soon after Milly had been born and today, at the funeral, Jensen had looked at Jared, _really looked,_ across from the mausoleum and Jensen had noticed him, the one time when he hadn't wanted his attention. Now, when Jensen confirmed that he was clean it was a bigger relief than Jared had expected. It was something else different, an improvement.

***

 

Danneel looked around the neatly organized kitchen, with its professional grade equipment. She could definitely enjoy cooking in here. “I could kill for coffee and a snack, so point me in the direction of the coffee beans and the fridge and I'll make something up,” she said to Kane.

 

Kane looked affronted, Jensen could swear that he growled, “But why would you cook? It’s what I’m here for.”

 

“It’s just that we’re not used to all…,” Jensen indicated all around them, “…this. We do things for ourselves.”

 

Danneel nodded and reached for Jensen’s hand. If he was feeling a little out of his depth, he couldn’t imagine how she felt.

 

“I can show you how to work the coffee maker,” offered Kane, “But I keep it topped up with beans, so unless you want a different blend...”

 

“We own a coffee shop. I think we can work out how to use the machine, thanks.” Danneel didn't mean to be short with him but she no longer had the energy to be sweet.

 

Luckily they were interrupted.

 

Someone clattered into the kitchen through utility room, and put a box of groceries on the surface. Like Kane, he was familiar from the short journey to the crypt, where he and Kane had helped to carry the coffin. He was a similar height to Miles's chef, muscular but wiry. Buzz-cut dark hair completed a first impression of ex-forces and his eyes assessed them, curious, blue and alert. He nodded a non-verbal greeting.

 

“Here’s Travis now. You can get him to pick up some things from home.”

 

Travis wiped his hands on his pants, stuck his right hand out to shake theirs. “Travis Wade. Happy to help. How 'bout you make a list and a floor plan while Chris here fixes y'all something to eat. It's been a mighty long day. ”

 

Kane nodded agreement. He looked down at Danneel's feet, “You can kick back, and take off those uncomfortable looking shoes. Any preferences for that snack?”

 

She blushed, she was sure she had been the only person at the funeral without designer label shoes. “Something simple, an egg salad sandwich would be good.”

 

“Same,” said Jensen, as Kane looked at him for confirmation.

 

Travis spoke again, slowly, as if considering his words carefully, “You might want to check in with Jared. These days he organizes most of the housekeeping and he's been dealing with Miles’s personal belongings. Between that and Milly – and how do you explain death to a five year old - he’s taken Miles's death real bad. You must have known that he would. Don’t tell him I said so, but he could use the support of old friends right now. ”

 

_That name again._

 

“We don’t know who Jared is,” Jensen admitted.

 

Travis and Kane turned in tandem, to stare at them, as if they were some kind of horror exhibit in a wax museum. They didn’t speak for a few moments, until Travis’s rich drawl broke the awkward silence,

 

“We were under the impression, you were old buddies. Jensen and Danneel Ackles, right? Miles told me he met you when he was a freshman. He had some classes with you. You were a sophomore, is that right Jensen?”

 

“Well, yeah, but I never met any Jared. Mostly we hung out at school. I guess he gave Jared the day off whenever we crashed the joint.”

 

Jensen wondered what else Miles might have told this stranger about him. He felt at a disadvantage.

 

“Danneel cleared her throat, “I, er never really knew Miles, not much. I didn't go to college.”

 

Kane twitched his head and blinked. “And the lawyer didn’t introduce you, or tell you anything?”

 

“No,” they replied together, mystified.

 

Kane scratched his chin, “Plausible deniability,” he snorted, with a glance at Travis. “Well, then, maybe you should wait for Jared to introduce himself.”

 

“And Milly,” added Travis.

 

“The little girl with the green ribbon in her hair?” asked Danneel, remembering her encounter on the terrace.

 

“I think it was a green ribbon today, yeah,” agreed Travis.

 

Jensen was impatient, “Can’t you just explain what this Jared's job is?”

 

“Nah, man. That’s between you and him. You need to work it out together.”

 

The business card which Aldis had given them seemed to burn into Danneel’s hand. She glanced back at it; _Specialists in Breeder Law_. She was suddenly nauseous. “We need to talk,” she said as she shoved Jensen in the chest, backing him out of the kitchen.

 

Travis gave a knowing nod and took a key down from a hook above the breakfast bar, he threw it to Jensen, “Two doors down, on the left. It’s the snug, it’s private.”  

*** 

The snug was much larger than its name would suggest. Squashy sofas and dusty tables were haphazardly placed around a snooker table, and a gaming computer with a huge flat screen was jammed into a corner at an angle. They stood in the middle of the room noticing bottles of half consumed vodka and bourbon on a shelf and there was a smell of stale beer and cigarettes. A deck of cards was abandoned in a game of solitaire. It was as if the room was waiting for Miles to return, refusing to acknowledge that he was gone.

 

Danneel ran a finger through cigarette ash on the edge of the snooker table, “Wow. Did he ever use his reception rooms?”

 

“I guess so, for receptions and that sort of stuff, but Miles was more comfortable like this on his own.” Jensen lifted the deck of cards and shuffled it. It gave him a distraction. “Are you really pissed about all of this? Everyone thinks they'd be really happy if money isn't a problem, but this seems, I don't know, overwhelming. Too strange.” 

 

Danneel took his hand in hers, “I'm not pissed. Who doesn't want to be rich? I just think we need to work out what we’re going to do about this Jared, real fast.”

 

Jensen shrugged, he couldn’t see the problem, “We let him know we're not like Miles. He's clearly got some sort of attachment and with Miles that generally means he shares his stash and shoots the shit all night when he's high. We can talk to him about his housekeeping, or whatever the hell it is, and if this is anything to go by…” he indicated the smelly room, “Then we should probably tell him to sort it out.”

 

Danneel’s steely gaze and pursed lips clued him in that his answer was not what she was looking for.

 

“I don’t think Jared is a housekeeper, or any sort of hanger-on, Jensen.” She pressed the attorney’s card into his palm. “There’s a child in this house that we inherited, doesn’t that seem a little odd to you? Jared's car has a child-seat in it.”

 

“Then one of the staff must have a breeder, or maybe Jared has adopted from a community hostel.”

 

Danneel couldn’t hold back any longer, she growled in frustration, “Or maybe Miles had a breeder _and a child_ ,”

 

“What? Nooo.” The denial was drawn out as Jensen considered it.

 

“Think about it. What happens to a breeder and any children, if their matched family dies?” She circled her hand, like a handle being wound, to encourage him to speak. She thought the way that Jensen scrunched up his face in thought was adorable.

 

“They go back to a community hostel to be re-matched to another family or to have the rest of their children there.”

 

“Or…”

 

“Ugh,” Jensen shivered with distaste, “If the estate is left to a suitable childless couple then they inherit the breeder and child, as if they are an object to be passed on.” He suddenly understood Danneel’s inference. The color drained from his face and he reached his hand out to the snooker table for support.

 

“We are childless and healthy. We have careers and a suitable education. We _could_ be accepted for the scheme if we wanted to pay in. Out of everyone he could have chosen, why did Miles choose us, Jensen?”

 

He shook his head, still denying the possibility, “No! Miles wasn’t a suitable candidate. He had no partner, he was an addict – he never denied it. He couldn’t have been matched to a breeder. He didn’t meet the criteria for being matched and he wouldn’t choose a man, he wasn’t gay and nobody chooses a man.”

 

Danneel crossed her arms and looked at him steadily. “Miles, had money, a lot of it. Anyone can get a breeder if they grease the right palms.”

 

“He wouldn’t, and certainly not a dude. Besides, Aldis Hodge would have told us. It would have been in the will. There would have been something to sign.”

 

“Miles wasn’t a fan of the breeding scheme, so maybe he thought he was doing the best thing. Maybe he chose a man precisely because he’d be stuck in a hostel otherwise. Perhaps there was nothing to sign because Miles didn’t want anyone to know he was a hypocrite. What if the child and his breeder, are unregistered? It happens.”

 

 

Jensen thought Danneel was being remarkably calm in the circumstances. His stomach was performing horrified flips. “We should probably ask Jared,” he offered.

 

“And then what?”

 

“And then nothing, because there is no way it’s possible. _I would know_. The media would have jumped on it long ago. We go and get our logical explanation and stop making up stories. We should find him – now!” He dropped the deck of cards. They fluttered through dusty air to scatter on the snooker table. He strode to the door and tugged it open.

 

Danneel studied him. Her jaw was set and her shoe tapped against the floor. “And if I'm right; if Jared is a breeder and Miles has a child, what then?”

 

Jensen’s jaw stiffened as he ground his teeth, “I’m not ready for a child. I don't want to be responsible for a breeder and all the government crap that comes with them. We couldn’t keep them.”

 

A noise in the corridor distracted them for a moment and there was a glimpse of someone disappearing around the corner. A tiny pink object dropped to the floor, but nobody came back to claim it.

 

Danneel and Jensen looked at each other and back at empty hallway.

***

 

Jared had heard enough. It seemed that Jensen really hadn't changed much after all. He wanted to punch something or cry, but he had to keep it together. There were arrangements to make, old contacts that he could try, safe houses to be found. His priority had to be Milly.

***

“Great. Do you think somebody was eavesdropping?” Jensen asked, but Danneel had already moved. She bent to retrieve a plastic object that was barely bigger than her fingernail.

 

“Barbie’s shoe,” she announced with a sigh. “I hope not. There’s not much worse than finding out that your legal parents are getting rid of your breed parent.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, and she slammed the tiny shoe into his hand. “Moron!”

 

Jensen swallowed back any annoyance at Danneel or the whole possible situation, because she was right, and he hadn’t been thinking when he’d made such a sweeping declaration. Danneel’s childhood wasn’t unusual. She never made a secret of how badly she felt about about the way her legal parents had discarded her breed-mother when she was seven, with no way for Danneel to ever contact her again. These days she didn’t contact her legal parents and they didn’t speak to Danneel. She had a little sister who sometimes updated her with family gossip.

 

Jensen considered himself lucky. His parent’s match had been full of love and respect. When his legal mother died of the blight at thirty, his father had cemented the relationship with his breed-ma by renewing their vows. They had been together for another ten years before his father passed away. Which reminded Jensen - he was going to have to announce this whole messy inheritance to his ma sometime soon. She was sure to have some choice things to say about thinking decisions through, as well as a host of suggestions for shopping trips.

 

“Sorry.” He gave his wife his most sheepish look, “I can’t think sensibly about a crazy conspiracy theory you just made up. You know I wouldn’t split a parent from their child.”

 

“No, but the authorities would. You know how it is. The child is adopted, and the breed-parent ends up in a hostel, or worse, prison.”

 

He knew that Danneel’s point was valid.

 

He turned the tiny shoe in his hand. “We should find the child and return this.”

 

Danneel looked at her watch. “I have to call Osric. I was supposed to cash up with him but I’m not going to make it.”

 

Jensen searched out Kane to find out where Jared would be, while his wife called Osric.

 

***

Jensen smoothed his shirt and straightened his tie before he knocked on the white door at the end of the corridor by Miles’s bedroom. There was the sound of someone on the other side, probably checking him out through the spyhole, and then came the clatter of deadbolts and safety chains being unlocked. It was a lot of security for a room within a mansion with its own security.

 

The man who opened the door wasn’t small and there were similarities to Miles, but up close he clearly wasn't Miles. His build was perhaps an inch shorter, and the rich brown hair that flopped messily into his face was a lot longer then Miles had ever grown it. Tear-puffy hazel eyes were tip tilted, in a pale face and his lips were wide and pink. He had moles on his face and neck, but they didn't detract from his overall beauty, because there was no doubt that this man was _beautiful_. Jensen felt his cheeks heating with a blush at the familiar jolt of attraction that his body had once harbored for Miles.

 

A large hand with long, elegant fingers waved past Jensen’s face. “Do you speak?” There was an edge of bitter sarcasm in the voice.

 

Jensen realized that he had been staring. He introduced himself, “Er, I’m Jensen. Jensen Ackles. I was Miles’s… um, friend.”

His answer was decidedly frosty. “I know who you are.” 

 

Jensen was still on the threshold and there was no invitation to come in. He hadn’t considered what to say, and now he was here every opening he could think of seemed like a dick thing to say. Whoever this man was, he had been close to Miles and yet remained unmentioned in his will.

 

“Are you Jared?” he asked, in the end, and proffered the miniature pink shoe. “I brought this back.”

 

The man nodded affirmation, flicked his hair behind his ears and scowled at Jensen. He crossed his arms, blocking the doorway, and deadpanned, “That doesn’t fit me.”

 

“No. I mean…it…we thought maybe your little girl dropped it.”

 

Jared rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I was kidding.”

 

There was an awkward silence and then Jared reached a hand to pluck the Barbie shoe from Jensen’s fingers, “I would thank you, but we’re packing light. I doubt Barbie will be coming with us.” Jared started to close the door.

 

Jensen put a foot out to block the door from closing. “Where are you going?” He asked.

 

He kicked Jensen’s foot. “Like I’d tell you!” 

 

The kick bruised, even through leather, but Jensen’s foot remained in place.

 

“We signed a contract to say that everyone would stay. Everyone has to stay,” Jensen argued. It was lame and he knew it, but _damn_ , he wasn’t a politician.

 

“Then boo-hoo for you, because we're not your property. You don’t get Milly and you don’t get me. You can turn us in, but we’re not going to any hostel. I’d rather die.” His words were spat with venom and determination.

 

Jensen froze in panic. There was no doubt that Danneel had identified Jared’s breeder status correctly. His head reeled with questions and consequences, _and why had he signed for the goddamn inheritance_? His mouth opened and shut wordlessly as his brain scrolled through a muddle of thoughts and words. When he spoke he was still no silver tongued politician, “But you and Miles were a legal match, right? There are laws and protection for you.”

 

Jared stopped trying to close his door. He tipped his head to one side, considering Jensen as if he were some kind of village idiot. He indicated his whole body, up and down, with both hands, “What do you think?” he sneered.

 

If he was honest, Jensen didn’t know what to think, so he didn’t. He put his hands up, as if in surrender. “We only wanted to talk.”

 

Jared peered over Jensen's shoulder, “I don’t see your wife. Maybe you thought you could get a free fuck while she wasn’t around.”

 

“Jeez! Are you always like this? Maybe I wanted to ask if you miss Miles, or if you need anything. My wife has a business to run, that’s all.”

 

Jared narrowed his eyes, squared his jaw and glared at Jensen, “Maybe I’m used to Miles’s dick friends. Maybe I know what you’re like.”

 

Jensen wasn’t sure why it mattered what this man thought of him, but he couldn’t bite his tongue, “Right, except I’m _not like that_.”

 

"They all say that," Jared retorted.

Jensen boiled with frustration and the staring match that they somehow engaged in was childish. Still, he was determined not to look away first.

 

There was the clatter of a ball on the polished wood floor and it was Jared who tore his gaze away, to look down. A couple of seconds later something collided with Jensen’s ankle, backed up and then ran into it again. Jensen shifted his foot from what he now identified as a ball with a hamster in it. The hamster realigned itself and took another run at Jensen.

 

“Milly!”

 

A whirlwind in a black dress arrived beside the ball, “Fred wants a cuddle,” Milly announced to Jared and Jensen. She picked up the ball to remove a fluffy cream and white hamster from it and proffered him to Jensen.

 

It broke the ice at least. Jensen accepted the little rodent and it stood happily in the palm of his hand sniffing him with tickly whiskers. He couldn’t help smiling as he tentatively stroked it with the finger of his other hand.

 

Jared’s eyebrow quirked, and Milly grinned happily as she said, “Fred bites really hard. He’s got very long teeth and blood gets all over the floor.”

 

Jensen froze in place, with his fingers smoothing Fred’s ears. He had no idea what sort of movement would cause a hamster to attack.

 

Jared’s giggle was unexpected. He held his hand out beside Jensen’s and Fred stepped onto it, happy to explore.

 

“Thanks, man,” breathed Jensen.

 

“He’s not a Rottweiler,” Jared pointed out, “But we have one of those too.”

 

“He’s called Mumps and he eats grass.” Milly was a chatty child.

 

“Mumps?” Jensen wondered if he’d misheard.

 

“It’s a long story,” Jared said. He sealed the hamster back in its ball and set it on the floor. It rolled off with Milly following behind.

 

“You can’t leave them,” Jensen blurted out. “You can’t go and leave pets. They’re part of the family. You can’t do that.” He wasn’t sure why he was so keen to discourage Jared. Sure, if the breeder and his child left, then the terms of their inheritance might be void, but it would also solve the problem of being responsible for an unregistered breeder, which posed all sorts of moral questions for him, as well as the real danger of a prison sentence.

 

“You don't want to play happy families with us, so what do you care?”

 

Jensen shrugged, “It’s your home. It wouldn’t be right.”

 

“Technically, it isn’t.”

 

“The law is an ass, and everyone says you’re the one who knows how to run this place. My wife and I don’t have a clue, so we could do with your help.” He paused before adding, “On your own terms, man.”

 

It was easier, thought Jared, if Jensen needed something from him. He did sound genuine. Running always seemed like a good option when he was angry or panicking but he'd looked at the realities enough times to know its dangers. He gave the faintest nod, “Milly is not your child and her upbringing is not your business. You don’t touch me, and this apartment is my space, just for me and Milly. I keep the key.” He indicated the rooms behind him. “Oh, and Milly doesn’t understand about Miles yet. She doesn’t realize that her pa isn’t coming home, so don’t be an ass around her.”

 

“We can do that.”

 

Jared made a mental list of things to do in case he decided to run with Milly – things he should have done instead of crying over Miles, like renewing the photograph on his fake i.d. Even with his ducks in a row it would likely take a day to leave and get to a safe place. He needed some assurance. 

 

“One more thing – if you don’t want us around, or if we fight, we won't stay. I’ll leave with Milly. Give us a day's head start before you turn us in. Can you do that?”

 

Jensen bit his lip, he didn’t need reminding that he was breaking the law. “Yeah,” he reluctantly agreed.

 

“Good. Well, I’ll see you around then.” Jared clutched the door handle, ready to close it.

 

“You should meet my wife, she wants to get to know you,” protested Jensen.

 

“Pretty redhead, great rack and legs, about yay-high.” Jared indicated Danneel’s height. “We already met. Maybe we could get to know each other a lot, lot better.” He leaned down to whisper in Jensen’s ear with a dirty smirk, “Just me and her.”

 

Jensen took a step back, shocked at his words, unsure if they were a tease or a challenge. Jared took the opportunity to slam the door between them. Jensen wondered how one day could change their lives so completely and then wondered where the good bourbon was kept. He navigated the corridors of the huge house to find Danneel and return to the kitchen.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little tweaking here and there ... and then virtually a rewrite of this chapter, so there may be more typos than usual. I take full responsibility and apologize profusely.

 

Christian's knife sliced rapidly through carrots and onions. He threw the vegetables into the saucepan and switched chopping boards and knives. The bang of his cleaver through a rib of beef was savage. He swiped his fringe behind his bandana with the back of his hand and waited for Jared to say something.

 

Jared toyed with the vegetable knife that Christian had been using, fascinated by the shine of it and the fine edge of it's blade.

 

“For fuck's sake! Put that down!” Chris growled. He snatched it from him by the handle and ditched it in the dishwasher. He pointed his cleaver at Jared and berated him fiercely, “Don't you _ever_ touch my knives. You understand me? Are we clear on that?”

 

Jared's shoulders rolled sulkily and he imitated Christian under his breath.

 

“How old are you? Are we on the same page with this Jared?”

 

“Clear! We're on the same page, okay. ”

 

Jared leaned his elbows on the counter. He gave Chris his best puppy eyes.

 

“Seriously, Jared. You're going to ask me to serve your dinner separately again aren't you?”

 

“ _They'll_ be home from work soon.”

 

“So, how about you stick around and ask how their day was, maybe have a conversation.”

 

Jared examined the fingernails of his left hand intently. They were getting long. He picked out a set of kitchen scissors from the knife block.

 

Christian put down his cleaver, “Jared, I swear...” He slapped Jared's hand and took it from him.

 

“Not knife – scissors,” protested Jared.

 

“They're in the block aren't they? Leave them alone,” Christian's warning was businesslike.

 

“They don't want to talk to me. They don't like me. They don't want Milly. We're inconvenient. Better not seen and not heard.”

 

Christian stopped his work and leaned against the counter, “Have they actually told you that? I mean, have you tried, at all, to be pleasant.”

 

Jared looked at the floor and shrugged. “They're boring and I don't want them here.”

 

“You need to get your shit together.” Chris extended a hand to Jared's shoulder and squeezed gently. “I know you're grieving but it's been two weeks and you haven't had a nice thing to say. What do you expect?”

 

“I haven't bothered them. The whole household has been running like clockwork so they don't have to do a thing. They haven't asked if I need any help. Like, do they even care if you get paid?”

 

“Well...” Chris tipped his head, thinking on a reply, “They're not used to having to do these things and since you're not telling them they need to – in fact you're coping perfectly well on your own with it – then why should they?”

 

“Ugh, I only wanted dinner in my rooms. They _always_ complain about Milly and shout at her.

 

“Jared, they might raise their voices but they don't yell at her.”

 

He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. “Well, have they asked about us? Do they want to know anything about us? What our routine is? Have they asked when Milly's birthday is?”

 

Jared had a point. Chris sighed and caved in, “ _Just today_ and no more. This has to stop. You have to extend an olive branch to them. You're my friend. I know you don't want the Ackles's here. The point is that you need their help to stay here safely. Milly needs a good atmosphere in her home. They could have turned you in before now and they still could if they feel no connection or friendship with you. You don't have to like them but being cordial doesn't cost anything.”

 

“My pride,” said Jared.

 

“Yeah?” Christian raised his eyebrows at Jared, “You have swallowed your pride and a whole lot more for less than that.”

 

“I know, I know.” Jared did know, and Christian wasn't saying anything that Jared hadn't told himself over the past fourteen days. It was simply difficult to act on. “I'll do it tomorrow,” he promised.

 

Christian patted his back, “Good.” He picked up his cleaver and went back to work.

 

Jared tapped his fingernails noisily on the counter.

 

Christian didn't look up. “Do you want to do something with those hands? We could jam some chords after dinner if you like.”

 

Jared stopped tapping and smiled at him, “Yeah, okay.”

 

“Now get out of my kitchen.”

 

***

The thing about having an obscene amount of money is that it makes it easier to stay healthy and wealthy, thought Danneel as she sat in the leather seat of their limousine beside Jensen while Travis eased them skilfully through evening traffic.

 

Meals were served and cleared for them, Kane prepared food which was both delicious and sustaining. They swam daily and worked out in their gym. Housework was completed like magic, yet they didn't lift a duster or even know where the vacuum cleaner could be found. Danneel insisted on making their own bed, but the dirty laundry disappeared daily, returned clean and pressed. They were living in a goddamn five star hotel with no check-out or fee, and their belongings had tagged along with them.

 

It all meant that they could concentrate on their careers, really get somewhere with the little projects that they had been struggling to complete.

 

There were issues of course.

 

Their social life was almost non-existent. Their work projects distracted them and it was too much hassle to dodge the media for a beer at a bar. Inviting anyone to Helix House felt awkward and ran the risk that somebody would ask about Jared.

 

Begging letters were weeded out by Travis and charity requests were redirected to Aldis Hodge in case provisions had been made to support them. Christian RSVP'd invitations and so far the only event they had attended was a low key movie night at a refurbished art-house cinema.

The paparazzi had set up camp outside Helix House, and trailed them mercilessly. Eventually, they had given an exclusive interview to one of the tabloids. Their answers to the likes of “What are your plans for fashion week?” (answer – none) were considered so dull that no other requests had been received. The numbers at the gate had dwindled. Travis had called it an inspired strategy. Danneel didn't know if he was being ironic.

None of Miles's supposed friends had called on them to offer their condolences and even Jensen's mother had been too busy to meet up with them.

 

There were also surprises.

 

Osric and Genevieve apparently attended the same martial arts classes, and more than one reporter found themselves forcibly ejected from the City Grind by the diminutive duo.

Kane could juggle virtually anything, including knives and Travis doubled as a bodyguard. The first time he drove them through an alley and then executed a handbrake turn to escape a tail made Danneel vow to carry spare panties with her.

Aldis Hodge, it turned out, was an expert at fabricating excuses to end a conversation when Jensen or Danneel tried to pin him down on the subject of Jared. They gave up trying.

Jared himself was a will ‘o the wisp barely glimpsed by either of them. It made the danger of his presence an abstract idea. They found endless reasons to put a discussion with him aside and the household ran smoothly without it.

 

If they were living in a dream bubble, they were unwilling to burst it just yet.

 

There was only one thorn that could pop that comfortable bubble; In reality, one _small_ person, and Milly seemed determined do it in the messiest, loudest, most painful way possible – repeatedly.

 

If Jensen and Danneel needed any reinforcement that they didn't want children then Milly was there to provide it. She was some sort of miniature demon. In the moments after her worst misdeeds Jared would swoop in to rescue her from their wrath but he didn't chastise her and didn't stick around long enough to apologize for her behavior. Any criticism of Milly, or of Jared's parenting brought pointed looks from Travis and Kane. More than once Kane stopped preparing food to point a sharp knife at them while he defended her right to play.

Danneel reminded herself to check her slippers for slugs when they got in, and to place her cellphone somewhere out of the reach of little hands.

Their limousine pulled into the long driveway of Helix House. She stretched and yawned. Gravel crunched beneath the wheels. Jensen put away his laptop and patted Danneel's knee, “We could chill out in the sauna and spa tub this evening,” he suggested with a dirty grin.

“Ooh, we could,” she purred.

Any discussion with Jared would wait another day.

 

***

 

Danneel slept naked by Jensen’s side. It had felt good to slip her spa-soft skin into fresh sheets beside her husband. She woke in the cold hours feeling a tickle over her foot. She grumbled at Jensen without opening her eyes, and turned over. Something pitter-pattered up her leg. She opened her eyes wide with a shiver up her spine. A pointy nose, whiskers and beady eyes came into vision.

 

Danneel screamed, “Rat!” and jumped out of bed, still naked. She winced. The sole of her foot was raw with the pain of standing on Milly’s legos which had littered the stairs that evening.

 

Fred somersaulted onto the bed covers and made a beeline for Jensen. Jensen shook himself awake and sat upright, “What?”

 

“There’s a rat,” Danneel squealed. She grabbed a book that she had been reading and proceeded to whack the bed with it, aiming for Fred and missing.

 

“Nooo!” A shrill voice cried.

 

There was someone else in the room and Danneel could already guess who the culprit was.

 

Jensen squinted at the rodent in the middle of the chaos. He snatched the book from her. “Wait! It's only Fred,” the words came out sleepy-hoarse.

 

Milly scrabbled onto the bed after her hamster, screeching “DADDY! DADDY! They’re going to kill Fred! DADDEE!”

 

Jensen dragged his hand through his hair, “What the hell is going on? Why is Fred in here?”

 

Danneel pointed at the child bouncing on their bed, and they both yelled, “Milly!” at the same time.

 

Milly grabbed her pet and bounced off the bed to escape. She ran directly into her daddy’s arms.

 

Jensen’s first thought was that Jared looked adorably sleepy. He was in soft cotton PJs and his hair stuck out at odd angles as he peered in at the commotion. In the second instant, both Danneel and Jensen remembered that they were naked, and snatched up bed covers for protection.

In the third moment, Jared transformed into a protective and vengeful mama bear. “What the hell are you doing to Milly?” Jared demanded to know. He cradled his daughter in his arms.

Milly looked at them smugly, with Fred sat on her shoulder.

Danneel lost her cool and stalked over to Jared, dragging the bed cover with her, “How dare you! She is here frightening us in the middle of the night and you let her wander around at that time! Milly is a spoilt brat who needs discipline. What about all the things she’s done to us, huh?” She poked a finger into his arm and it was rock solid and muscular. She poked it again and continued her tirade, ending in a declaration that Milly would be better off with parents who could control her.

 

Milly burst into tears and buried her head in her daddy’s chest, “Don' send me away. I hate this mummy and dada.” Her tears increased and she gulped air as she wailed.

 

Jared paled. He looked shocked and suddenly small despite his height. He stroked his daughter’s hair in a gesture of reassurance. “What did you say to her? What did you do? You’ve been mean to her since the day you moved in.”

 

Jensen gasped, “We have not! She has waged war on us ever since we got here. The permanent marker on my briefcase, finger-paint on our laundry…,” Jensen started to list Milly’s crimes.

 

“The mud in our coffee, the legos on the stairs…” joined in Danneel.

 

The fight drained from Jared. He shook his head and tears glistened in his eyes, “She’s a _child_ and you haven’t tried at all. Have you even thought how confusing this is for her? You said you would tell me if you wanted us to go. If you hate us so much we can leave. He pulled himself straight and spoke with resolve, “We will leave.”

 

Milly howled, “No! I wan’ Unca Chris, I wan’ Mumps,”

 

“Give us 24 hours,” reminded Jared, looking at Jensen.

 

“You told us to leave her alone,” retorted Jensen.

 

“I said we weren't your property. I didn’t tell you to ignore her. Who ignores a five year old?”

 

“Nearly six,” added Milly proudly. Jared shushed her.

 

Danneel reached out to Jared’s arm again, but this time she didn’t prod him. She laid her hand gently on his shoulder, “Don’t. I’m sorry. We’re all tired. It was a shock. I thought her hamster was a rat.”

 

Jared pulled away from her touch. “Leave us alone.” He lifted Milly into his arms, hugged her close and walked away without another word.

 

They didn’t follow him. The sound of crying receded.

 

Danneel sat on the edge of the bed, she rubbed her eyes. “Do you think that’s what Milly wanted? Attention.”

 

“Maybe, but the asshole could have talked to us.” Jensen was tired and grumpy.

 

Danneel rolled onto the bed and pulled Jensen down by her side, “Y’know we haven’t tried real hard to talk to him. Maybe we thought if we ignored them then the whole situation would somehow go away, but she’s five and we may have overreacted. It’s not right for them to go on the run, you know that? There are traffickers who take advantage.”

 

“I know,” mumbled Jensen.

 

“We should make an appointment with that attorney, McNiven.”

 

“Mmhmm,”

 

Danneel was determined. “I'll organize it first thing in the morning.”

 

“Okay,” conceded Jensen with a yawn.

 

“Are you too tired for a kiss?”

 

“Nope,” he mumbled and dived in for a lazy sloppy kiss, with his body wrapped tightly into hers.

*******

 

Danneel didn’t sleep well. She slipped out of bed and crept from the bedroom before seven, while Jensen still slept. Upstairs, the house felt cool and still, like they were the only ones there. She could almost kid herself that it was like before, when she would tiptoe the short distance to the kitchen in their small apartment, to make Jensen coffee to chase away his morning blues.

 

Here, there was distance and a staircase to reach the kitchen and it felt all wrong. Even more so, when she reached the door to the kitchen only to hear Chris Kane singing a silly song while Milly giggled with joy. There was more noise as feet stomped and clattered in an obvious game of chase. Danneel doubled back, she didn’t want to intrude.

 

She found herself wandering the corridors of the big house, peering into rooms, pretending she could imagine new furniture, and a different decor but her imagination couldn’t stretch that far, or assign a cost to redecorating. She had been raised in a poky apartment downtown, and her breed mother had been taken back to the community breeding hostel after her sister was born, because there was no more money and no space for the third child that a breeder was obliged to produce.

 

She found herself back by Miles’s room for the first time since they’d moved in and she pushed the door inwards expecting to see the room tidied and clean. What she found instead, was the same mess, and Jared on the bed, curled on the covers with his face buried in the pillows.

 

“Jared?”

 

He jumped and hastily sat up, pushing pillows into place at the top of the bed. He didn’t look around at Danneel.

 

“I was tidying,” he claimed, but his voice wavered.

 

“No you weren’t,” Danneel refuted it softly, “Are you okay?”

 

“Of course I’m not okay, but it’s nothing you have to care about.”

 

Danneel crossed the gap between them, with slow, smooth movements. “We, Jensen and I, have handled things... um, badly. We talked about it last night. We're sorry. You should stay.”

 

Are you saying that because you want to keep me in my place, breed me?” He plumped a pillow, still refusing to look at her.

 

Danneel was visibly shocked by his question, “Jared, no! It’s not like you’re registered anyway. Nobody is checking numbers.”

 

Jared sniffed, “Milly doesn’t want to leave. This place, it's all she's ever known.”

 

“She doesn't have to. It's her home where she should be able play, and explore and...” Danneel rolled her eyes, she didn't believe she was saying this, “...make mischief in safety. We’re not used to children but we should have made more of an effort with Milly.”

 

“Would it be different, if she was yours? If she was Jensen's?”

 

“No! Of course not!

 

Jared looked around at her. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were tear-stained. “You do know it’s a felony, right? Hiding us?”

 

“Of course we know. It was a shock at first but Jensen agreed not to turn you in and I couldn't argue with him. It is the right thing to do. We’re going to speak to somebody. We'll work out the best way to keep all of us safe, for as long as we can.”

 

“Why would you do that for me?”

 

“You’re human aren’t you?”

 

Jared picked at a thread in his pants, “Most people don’t think so.”

 

“I do. We do. Do we have a truce?”

 

“Milly shouldn’t have put Fred in your bed, and she shouldn't have been up. I should have made sure our door was secure," admitted Jared.

 

“I’m sure they were just being friendly. It was a funny prank.” Danneel decided to be generous despite the panic Fred had caused her. She sat beside Jared on the bed.

 

Jared gave her a watery smile and moved flush with her. His PJ’s were soft and he was solid muscle and warmth in them. His arm brushed against hers, and she was hyper-aware of the touch. She felt her cheeks heat slightly. Jared was a handsome man.

 

You miss Miles?” It was more of a statement than a question.

 

Jared frowned and he seemed to be searching for an excuse.

 

“It wouldn’t make you weak if you did,” Danneel added. She rested her hand on his thigh and she could feel a regular pulse of blood just beneath his skin.

 

Jared looked at her, and his eyes were hypnotic, a changeable hazel-gold framed in thick lashes. “You’re too nice for him,” he said. He tilted his face down, close to hers. His lips were wide and moist and his tongue poked out between his teeth a fraction. His breath was morning-sour but not offensive and he was close enough to kiss. She wondered why that thought crossed her mind.

 

“Too nice for who? Miles?” she asked instead.

 

“No! Jensen! Nobody gets it.” Jared backed away, affronted, “Miles wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t how everyone saw him.”

 

“Maybe that’s how I feel about Jensen,” countered Danneel.

 

Jared stood up, and the space beside her was cold, “Then he’s lucky,” he said. He turned his back and walked away but she heard his reply, “Miles was the only one who ever wanted _me._ He didn't care about my worth in babies, he cared that we had fun.”

 

“We should meet up, all of us together, do something fun. If there's anything I've learned about Miles it is that he would have wanted that for us,” Danneel called after him.

 

“Hmm,” Jared grunted, and was gone.

 

Danneel breathed deep. She whacked her forehead with the palm of her hand – because asking the distraught, grieving man to do 'something fun' was a new level of tactless for her. Still, it was an olive branch of sorts.

 

She shook the covers of the bed neatening it absent-mindedly before she left the room. A pair of nail scissors dropped to the floor. She picked them up, tutting at the carelessness of whoever had left them there.

 

***

There was no doubt that when Danneel wanted something she got things done, and she wasn't afraid to use their newly acquired wealth and small time fame to make things happen. An out-of-hours appointment with McNiven was scheduled for the same evening. Jared wasn't present. What was in their best interest was not always in the best interest of the breeder, apparently. It made Danneel uncomfortable, but McNiven was the expert.

 

Jensen and Danneel were admitting to a crime, and despite being assured that their information was confidential they felt exposed. They checked that the door of the City Grind was locked, and checked twice that there was nobody lurking in the rest rooms. They sat together for the meeting, huddled together in a booth, opposite McNiven.

 

Ms McNiven was supremely calm in a navy pant suit, with her hair clipped into a neat bun. They all sipped coffee and she asked a series of questions,

“Tell me about Jared. How old is he? Where is he from? Why isn’t he registered? Have you confirmed that he is a full breeder? What about Milly? What is her age and status? Who else knows about them?”

 

Danneel and Jensen grimaced and shrugged their shoulders, “We haven’t asked. I think Milly said she was five.”

 

They’d been so focused on the changes in their own life that they hadn’t thought to find out more about Jared. Besides, he had been less than forthcoming with them.

 

The attorney raised her eyebrows in surprise, “So, our first priority is to obtain information. You’ve been in the same household for several weeks. Ignorance is no defense.”

 

She gave them a number of bullet points to address and sat back with her coffee. “Of course, if you do not contact the police to share your knowledge of Jared and Milly, you will be committing a crime. As your attorney I must strongly advise that you turn Jared over to the authorities to investigate. I cannot prevent the usual execution of the law. I can only represent you to the best of my ability.”

 

Jensen squeezed Danneel’s hand, “What would happen to him and to Milly then?”

 

“It depends on the circumstances. If there was an abuse of the system to Jared’s harm, then he would be found a match or taken to a secure hostel. Milly would be put up for adoption.”

 

Danneel gasped, “That’s terrible! What about Milly’s choice?”

 

Jensen rubbed soothing circles on the back of Danneel’s hand.

 

“It’s the best case scenario. A breeding hostel is no environment for a child. Children adapt.”

 

Danneel bit her tongue, she knew that children did not always adapt, but it wasn’t McNiven’s fault.

 

“If Jared was complicit in remaining unregistered, and we continued to hide him what would be the worst that could happen?” Danneel needed to know.

 

McNiven looked out of the window, considering her words, “That wouldn't be pretty. He would get a custodial sentence. Impregnation and pregnancy would take place in a prison re-education facility and his babies would be removed for adoption immediately after birth. Since Jensen is recorded as fertile and therefore willfully preventing conception, he would serve the same length of sentence in the same facility. Anyone aiding them could be given custodial sentences up to a year and ordered to attend community education sessions.”

 

It was a nightmare scenario. It was common enough, happening somewhere else, to other people. It wasn't supposed to be a possibility for them. The air seemed suddenly colder and Danneel shuddered.

 

“Impregnation?” Jensen queried.

 

McNiven grimaced, “In theory, there are vetted sperm donors. You don’t want to hear the reality.”

 

“If you were us, what would you do?” asked Danneel.

 

McNiven was tight lipped, “I can’t comment on that.”

 

They were silent for a moment before Danneel asked, “There must have been a reason why you were recommended to us. What is your specialization?”

 

“My preference is to take cases in defense of an unregistered breeder, or in cases where registered breeders are mistreated, to gain a separation. My firm are the legal representatives for the _B*Right_ group.”

 

Jensen sat straighter in the booth, “The breeders’ rights activists?”

 

“We prefer the term political pressure group, but yes.” She waited for the information to sink in with her clients. “My legal advice to you remains the same; you should inform the authorities about Jared. If you choose to ignore that advice, then there are mitigating actions that can lessen a judge’s final sentence, but if exposed you are unlikely to escape punishment altogether.”

 

“What sort of actions?”

 

She looked Jensen directly in the eyes, “Get him pregnant. Get him pregnant as soon as you can, and make sure that you pass every requirement of the matching and adoption scheme. Love Milly, shower her with affection and participate in her upbringing. Act as her parents. Be an effective family unit. If you meet the criteria as if you were properly matched, then a sympathetic judge might consider the best interests of the children when passing sentence.”

 

“Does that succeed?” Danneel wanted to know.

 

McNiven gestured with a tip of her hand, “Eh, 50/50,” she admitted.

 

Daneel’s chest felt too tight, and the room was too hot.

 

Jensen paled. “No! It's rape. It's doing precisely the same thing as a forced match or hostel.”

 

“Legally, any sex with a breeder by a fertile cannot be defined as rape. It is all bonding and impregnation, though significant physical damage is prosecutable where fecundity or pregnancy is impaired.”

 

“I don't care what the law says, I can't do that shit to anyone,” said Jensen angrily.

 

McNiven drew noisy breath before speaking again. “I don't make the laws, Mr. Ackles. I don't even have to like them, but in my experience Jared is better co operating with you than with a prison full of inmates.”

 

The wind was gone from his sails in a moment. Jensen numbly shook his head.

 

Danneel was processing the details of McNiven's words. “We can't live every day wondering if we'll be discovered and jailed. How does Jared do that?”

 

McNiven gathered her papers. “You have a lot to think about. Discuss it and gather the information I’ve listed. Don’t leave your decision too long. Once you are sure, give me a call. We will schedule a meeting with either Jared, or local law enforcement, depending upon which way you want to take this.” She stood up, and placed a folded piece of paper next to her empty coffee cup. "If you want to find out more about B*Right and other similar groups then I am sure you can find information on the internet. Of course I cannot recommend any such sites and some are censored or monitored by the authorities.  Her heels clicked as she walked to the door. They continued to sit, staring at each other. “The door is locked,” she reminded them.

 

Jensen shook himself out of his thoughts and stepped up to see her out. He remembered his manners and shook her hand. “Thanks for meeting us so quickly.”

 

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Ackles, Mrs. Ackles,” she ducked out of the door, into a drizzling rain, stopping to shake out her umbrella and raise it over her head. By the curb a black car with dark-tinted windows started its engine, revved and drove away, spattering droplets of water from the street onto the sidewalk.

 

Danneel stayed in the booth, she put her head in her hands, “I can’t lose you, Jensen, I can’t. Not you.”

 

Jensen cleared the cups and pocketed the slip of paper. He sat next to Danneel and wrapped his arms around her, “I’m still here,” he reassured with a soft-lipped kiss to her neck.

 

“Milly can’t lose Jared, she's already lost her pa. I can’t do that to a child. It hurt me. Who hurts a child like that? Why can’t the government see that?” The dilemma was tearing her apart. She picked up a sugar dispenser and launched it across the room. It shattered on the smooth tiled floor. She yelled questions at Jensen, “What the fuck was wrong with Miles? Why did he do this to us? Milly is five years old. How did you not know about Jared?”

 

He didn’t have any answers for her. He rocked her in his arms and let her vent. When she fell silent, Jensen could only think of one platitude, “If Milly is five then it means that Miles has kept Jared secret for at least as long. We can do the same, and we can look for a way to get them out, to Canada.”

 

“You're going to die in jail,” sniffed Danneel.

 

“Maybe they’ll change the law before then,” Jensen retorted, hopelessly optimistic.

 

She snorted at the idea, but let him call for Travis to take them home to Helix House.

They unfolded the paper in the back of the car. It was a short list of websites with names that consisted of random numbers and letters. Jensen keyed the first into his laptop. It was a tutorial on how to stay anonymous on the web and delete browsing history. The second site gave advice to parents on keeping their children out of the government scheme by matching them independently and providing proof of suitability. Jensen thought about Amanda McGill and wondered if her parents had visited the site before they gave her away to make children with the Smith-Giles's. He slammed his laptop closed. He had learned enough for the day.

***

The mansion was quiet when they arrived home. They went in search of Chris Kane and found Jared in the kitchen. There was a tempting smell of spices and grilled cheese and Jared leaned on the counter by the microwave while it whirred. He startled and looked up at them with an expression reminiscent of a puppy discovered with a chewed slipper. He gave them a little wave and said, “Hi.”

 

He was dressed casually in jeans that were cut to mold perfectly over his contours and his long sleeved tee was tight enough to showcase the firm muscles of his chest and arms. Danneel practically purred at the sight and Jensen nudged her knowingly but he could hardly tear his eyes from the sight either.

 

The microwave tinged and he popped the door and pulled out an enormous platter of cheesy nachos. He grinned at Jensen and Danneel. His face was pale but his eyes were less red than they had been that morning.

 

“It’s Thursday,” he said, by way of explanation, but it didn’t clear anything up for them. “Movie night,” he expanded, and loudly munched some of the nachos, “Here,” he offered the platter to them and Jensen’s mouth watered, “Go on,” insisted Jared, “Chris left a beef rib stew in the fridge, but we’ve got to be let off the leash sometimes right?”

 

“Where is Chris?” asked Jensen.

 

“You need to get a grip on this household, dude. He has a life aside from us. Thursday is his day off.”

 

“Oh, he was here last week.”

 

“He figured you needed support.” Jared threw another handful of nachos in his mouth, crunched again and shined his lips with his tongue to get every crumb. He waved the platter under their noses and it smelt like heaven. “I can eat them all, but that would be rude,” he insisted.

 

After two weeks of balanced, gourmet food they were irresistible to Jensen. He reached out and grabbed a handful, stuffed them in his mouth and practically moaned around them. Danneel rolled her eyes and took two. She nibbled on them delicately before diving in to take more.

 

Jared looked at the floor and ran his free hand through his hair nervously, “There’s movies and internet in the snug, and I've got beer and Hersheys bars. You can choose a movie to watch with me,” he offered.

 

“We don’t want to intrude,” Jensen answered, a little too quickly.

 

Jared bit his lip, he looked dejected.

 

Jensen regretted his words. He tried to explain, “I mean, if it’s normally your time with Milly.”

 

“Milly went with Chris. He goes to his sister’s and she doesn’t ask questions. She has a boy Milly's age. Our situation, there’s not many kids to play with her.”

 

“Is it just you at home on a Thursday?” Danneel asked.

 

Jared’s shoulders dropped, “It used to be Miles and I. He wouldn’t give up his weekend parties, so on Thursdays he stayed in. Sam has bridge club, Chris sleeps over at his sister’s with Milly, and Travis takes Mumps for the evening. It was just us, y’know. It feels kind of odd now.”

 

Danneel thought it was the closest that Jared was going to get to admitting that he was lonely. She squeezed Jensen’s arm in silent communication.

 

Jensen answered for them both. It would give them an opportunity to find out more about Jared. “Okay, well yeah. It sounds like a good idea; movies, candy and nachos. We’ll get changed into something more comfortable. You pick some titles that we can choose from.”

 

Jared put the platter on the counter and straightened up. The worry lines disappeared from around his eyes. He was suddenly animated with enthusiasm. He looked younger and it suited him. “Really? Yes. Great. I can make popcorn. I should make popcorn.”

 

“You should make popcorn,” agreed Danneel and Jensen together.

 

When they were alone, Danneel punched Jensen lightly in the arm.

 

“Ouch! What was that for?”

 

“For answering without thinking! Jared misses Miles. He’s lonely. No wonder he thinks you’re grumpy.”

 

“I’m not grumpy? Am I grumpy?”

 

“Sometimes dear,” she giggled.

 

He huffed.

 

They changed in to lounge pants and soft tops and made their way down to meet Jared in the snug.

 

***

 

Jared greeted them with beer. His smile seemed a little forced and he curled with his feet up on a huge sofa, looking as small as such a tall man could manage. He had a soft blanket tucked around him. Another sofa had been pulled up to face the large flat screen T.V. for Jensen and Danneel.

 

For a moment Jensen didn’t see Jared; the way he was sitting, moved and talked reminded him of Miles. It was like seeing a ghost, but then Jared's expression was open and hopeful in a way that Miles hadn’t been since freshman year. Jensen hesitated and averted his eyes, hoping he hadn’t been caught staring.

 

Jared rattled off a list of movies.

 

“Um, aren't some of those banned or censored?” wondered Danneel.

 

Jared shrugged, “They're the best sort but if it bothers you, we've got Disney too.”

 

Danneel laughed, “No. I'll watch those with Milly. Crank up something badass with comedy and action.”

 

Jensen nodded agreement, “I'm with her, just don't tell me if it's on the banned lists.”

 

Some of the tension seemed to melt from Jared, “Good. I've got just the thing. It has exploding airplanes, one liners and old fashioned romance.

 

“Sounds good,” agreed Jensen.

 

“I can put up with romance since there is popcorn,” Danneel took a handful and sat heavily on the sofa with Jensen.

 

Jared dimmed the lights and cued the movie and it wasn’t the time for small talk. The sound system blared and it was no longer an option.

 

It wasn’t the first time that Jensen had watched the movie and he mouthed along to some of the lines. On the other sofa, he could see Jared doing the same, but Jared couldn’t hide his exhaustion and yawns interspersed his mime.

 

By the time of the final showdown, Jared’ eyes were closed and he seemed to be asleep. Danni pressed hotly against Jensen’s side, mouthing at his neck and her fingers strayed up his leg.

 

“Mmm, I love making out at the movies,” Jensen whispered in her ear, and he tilted her face for access to kiss her lips while his hand smoothed the flesh under her top, skimming the underside of her breasts, making her gasp and giggle.

 

Jensen shushed her, even while his tongue continued to lick into her mouth.

 

The scene ended and the credits rolled. Jared stirred and glanced over from his position lying on the giant sofa, “Don’t mind me. You can make out all you want. Miles and I fucked on practically every item in this room.” He smirked, helped himself to a large handful of popcorn and threw it into his mouth.

 

They pulled apart, suddenly prim, like teenagers in a Lover’s Lane when the cops turn up. It was hard to tell if Jared was being serious. Danneel studied the fabric of their sofa, as if looking for clues.

 

“The snooker table is particularly robust,” continued Jared. There was a faraway look in his eyes.

 

Jensen stood up and stepped to the table. He picked up a cue, feeling its weight in his hand, “Or, we could, y’know, play snooker on this snooker table.”

 

“Do you play?” Jared started, and then rolled his eyes, as if remembering something, “Of course you do, _party-boy_.”

 

“That was a long time ago. Did we meet, back then? I don’t remember if we did.” Jensen tipped his head, waiting for an answer.

 

Jared looked up momentarily, stared straight into Jensen’s eyes, as if questioning his sincerity, then looked away, brushed the baize and set up the reds in the triangle, “You were like a love sick puppy for Miles.” He was aware of the impact of what he was saying, looking between Danneel and Jensen.

 

“She knows,” Jensen put his hand on Danneel’s shoulder and she stood on tiptoe to place a kiss on his forehead.

 

“I know,” she echoed, and picked out a cue for herself.

 

“Good. I’d hate it to be an issue,” Jared sounded bitter.

 

“I thought Miles wasn’t into men,” Jensen said.

 

“He wasn’t,” Jared flipped a coin for the start and continued speaking, “He was into me.”

 

“But you’re…” Danneel’s voice trailed off.

 

“The only one,” finished Jared, boasting like it was some kind of face-off, and maybe it was, because Jensen was pissed that Miles hadn’t told him. His friend had let him believe that he couldn’t be attracted to a man, while Jared had been there, somewhere in the background, watching Jensen’s moves, laughing at him.

 

“There were women. Lots of them,” Jensen couldn’t help the petty come-back.

 

Danneel glared at him over the tip of her cue.

 

“Yet he always came back to me.”

 

The ‘ _not always, not the last time,’_ that was on the tip of Jensen’s tongue, stayed there. He had some self control. Still, he was sure that Jared sensed the thought in his pause.

 

“Two, against one, we don’t play regularly,” Danneel butted in, trying to defuse the situation.

 

Jared nodded at Danneel, “I break first.” He checked out the angles of the table, bent down low over it, with his back straight and ass pointing up, round and tempting.

 

Jensen couldn’t look away from it. Ms McNiven’s words rang in his head, “Get him pregnant” because he couldn’t see anything wrong with the plan from this angle aside from Jared’s attitude.

 

The white clattered into the pack and a red rolled smoothly in to the far right pocket. When he straightened up Jared spoke directly to Jensen, “See something that you like?” then turned and winked at Danneel.

 

Danneel blushed. 

 

Jared leaned over the table again, theatrically assessing the balls from every angle, and Jensen was reminded of Miles, winding up a room full of poorer students, just because he could. With Miles’s narcissistic tendencies it stood to reason that he chose a breeder with similar looks to his own, but the matching attitude could have raised sparks.

 

Jared lined up a shot on the pink and cued smoothly.

 

“How is it that you're unregistered? How did you and Miles get together? Did he pay for you?” Jensen asked.

 

Jared stood up, before the follow through was finished and the pink skittered across the table and into the scatter of reds. The blunt end of his cue slapped into the floor as he let it slide down through his fingers. He looked shocked but gathered his composure quickly. His answer dripped with sarcasm, “Sluts Inc.”

 

“God! Are you two ever going to stop this?” Danni pushed them both out of the way to line up on a solitary red in the far center. “It’s like kindergarten.”

 

“He started it,” mumbled Jensen, fully aware of how childish he sounded, yet unable to stop himself.

 

“I’m trying. Really I am,” claimed Jared, “Because you could have turned me in already, and I promised Chris I would try, but I wasn’t expecting this level of stupid.”

 

The red bounced off the cushion, but Jensen didn’t step up for his shot.

 

“You talked to _the cook_ about us?”

 

“ _Chef_ , and household security, and my friend,” Jared corrected, “And it’s really rather rude that you haven’t bothered to find out anything about Travis, Sam or Chris, because this isn’t a hotel and they used to be appreciated. They’re family, and they live here too.”

 

Danneel studied her nails, embarrassed, because Jared was right, they had been too self absorbed to think about anyone else. She laid herself bare, “Look, we’re sorry!” she sighed, “We don’t have a clue what we’re doing here, or why we were named in the will, and I’m not used to it. I don’t even know which silver to use in an expensive restaurant. I don’t know what to say to Chris and Travis because they’re used to high society. They know what to do and I don't.”

 

“You only had to ask! I’m not some sort of freak. Or is that what you want out of this, for me to say it out loud? I’m a freak. I’m wrong. _Miles and I were wrong_.” The edge was gone from Jared’s voice, replaced by a sadder tone. The cue was gone from his hold, resting against the table, and his fingers tugged through his wayward hair.

 

Jensen understood that Jared might be angry about his status. He knew in some circles the genetic variation that allowed some men to get pregnant was regarded as freakish or God’s wrath on sinners, but he and Danneel had never thought that. He knew that Miles had never thought that way, yet Jared’s fear, the almost caged look he was giving them, was very real.

 

Jensen put his arm around Danneel, the clash was obviously upsetting her, and she seemed as confused as Jensen.

 

“What do you want Jared? What do you need us to say or to do?” Jensen forced himself to say it calmly.

 

Jared huffed. His hands dropped and he hugged them around himself. He looked at the floor, and launched into a garbled explanation. It was as if he’d opened a bottle and he couldn’t stop the contents from spewing out,

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “ _You_ can't fix anything. I want it all to go back to normal. I don’t want you here. I don’t want Travis and Chris tiptoeing around me, telling me to trust you because Miles did. Miles should be here, watching movies with me, missing the end of them because we're too busy making up or making out. I don’t want to go to bed alone. I shouldn’t have to, because _Miles promised me_ he was going to stick around and take care of me. I’m sure you’re really nice Danneel but I don't want any of this.”

 

Jensen’s eyebrows lifted at the inferred insult of his exclusion from the end of his explanation.

 

“I can't trust Miles's flaky friends. I just want him, okay?" Jared resumed, "I want my twin brother alive. He was all I ever needed. I need him not to be in that crypt. That's what I need, okay? ” Jared pushed past them as he finished venting, and then he was out of the door and disappearing back to whatever space hid behind his white door with the little spy-hole.

 

Jensen and Danneel stared after him in shock. Jensen mentally reviewed the words, Jared’s height and his features, the way he had mistaken him for Miles at the mausoleum. He felt sick.

 

Danneel tugged his arm, “And you didn’t know? You didn’t guess? Think!”

 

“Shit, Danni. No! Miles was an only child. I was certain of it. There was never anything he did or said that made me think any different. I mean, how can that happen?”

 

“Jared met you, at one of Miles’s parties. He said as much.”

 

“There were so many at those parties. They were gate crashed by half the college and a few more. I was off my head at all of them. We all were.”

 

Danneel ground her teeth. Sure, she knew about those times, and she knew it had continued through the first year of their relationship. It didn’t mean that she was comfortable with the memory of the pain it had caused her.

 

Jensen continued, “Besides, what about their pa? The media? There would have been some mention surely? There was nothing said at the funeral. If he is Miles’s twin then why didn’t anyone say anything? Why didn’t he inherit? The estate would be his.”

 

Danneel was thoughtful, “No. It would have exposed him. Besides, Jared is a breeder. He wouldn’t be entitled to anything unless he was registered and had already produced three children.”

 

“That’s unfair.”

 

Danni agreed with a nod of her head. She sat down and pulled Jensen back to the sofa with her.

 

A dark thought flitted through Jensen’s mind, “They were… _fucking_? Did he say that? What about Milly? What does that make her?”

 

“I think he told us everything, darling, if we were listening.”

 

Jensen crinkled his nose, “Oh, that is vile. How could they? It’s _so_ wrong.”

 

“I think, perhaps, that is what he was afraid we would think.” She smoothed Jensen’s hand with her fingers, “We don't know enough to judge them. What harm has it done anyone else if they were intimate? Maybe we should give him a little time. To lose so much, and to have no entitlement to his grief must hurt.”

 

It was why Jensen loved his wife so much, her capacity to care. It didn’t stop him from being repulsed at the thought of brothers making out. “What do we do?” he asked her.

 

“We let him grieve and we talk to him. We work it all out, like we discussed with McNiven. This doesn’t alter anything.”

 

“Of course it does. They were brothers! Milly is… I don’t know. Maybe a hostel is best for him. Milly shouldn't have to grow up knowing what they did. She should get a chance at another family.”

 

There was suddenly distance between them, and Danni’s eyes darkened, “Milly is a little girl who has lost her Pa, and Jared is all that she has, Jensen! How can you even think that? This afternoon you were crying rape by the system and now Jared deserves it? Maybe there was love. Is it worse, Jen, than a family selling out its fertile child to live with strangers, to be raped until pregnant, to bear their children, to love those children and have them ripped away? Those children know what their natural mother endured for them. The guilt of it _never_ goes away.”

 

“It’s not the same. It's not always like that. It wasn't with my parents, and with a lot of their friends. There are good families out there, willing to bring up children morally. If the law is used how it was intended then it protects the breeder from having to bring up children they don't want. Incest is, I don't know, more wrong, damaging.” 

Danneel's eyes narrowed and her lip curled into a snarl. Jensen was oblivious in his righteousness. “Or _damaged_ ," she argued, "And how often is the law used the way it was intended, Jensen?”

“Look I'm not saying I don't want to see the system phased out but breeders have compensations. They are provided for. They always have a home, food and medical fees paid. The rest of us have to work. We aren't guaranteed a roof over our heads or health insurance. After they’re done breeders get a subsidized apartment, and a severance fee. They still get to live their life. Lots of them choose to have more children.”  Jensen knew it sounded like he was spouting government rhetoric but he didn't mean it that way. He wasn't going to deny that there were problems with the system and that he generally had no wish to see breeders split from their children, but not all families who adopted were bad and sometimes he did resent the benefits and cash payout that the government awarded breeders regardless of whether they cared for their children.

Danni pushed him away, like his touch burned. Her voice was ice, “I’m too tired to listen to your entitled bullshit,” and she was up and walking out of the snug before he could process her anger. “There are plenty of other beds for you.” Her long red hair swung in time with sway of her hips.

Just like that Danni had chosen sides, and she’d picked Jared.

 

 

***

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Outside, Jensen’s breath huffed white in the still air. With the fixed garden lamps and a half moon, he navigated paths through the formal garden and then beyond to the unlit and modest arboretum where fat drops of icy water spilled on his head from heavy evergreen leaves. He pulled his hood over his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets. It felt like he deserved the discomfort, and maybe it would help to focus his thoughts.

 

In the distance somewhere a dog barked.

 

He looked back on the complex set of buildings which were supposed to be home. Warm light spilled from windows in the staff quarters, above the garage, while the main house stood dark and shuttered except for bright spots indicating the kitchen and the main entrance. Jared’s rooms were hidden from this angle and he wondered if light burned there too. He had never seen it look so empty and imposing while Miles was alive.

 

He stopped by a gazebo, with its thorny wood twisted and bare. There was enough shelter for the bench to be almost dry so he sat down, watching starlight waver through scudding clouds. He considered his cell phone in his pocket, turned it in his fingers then took it out. The number he called was on speed dial and he half-hoped that there would be no answer.

 

“Jensen. What a nice surprise.”

 

“Hi, mom.”

 

“How are you two getting along, rattling around in that big mansion? I’ve made some space in my diary and now I'm ready for my invite, wondering what to wear.” She was cheerful, pleased to hear from him, as usual.

 

Jensen didn’t know what to say. He needed his mom’s advice, wanted to spill their dilemma to her, but it wasn’t fair to involve her. It occurred to him that with Jared present, it was always going to be dangerous to have friends and family to stay. His silence hung in the air.

 

“Oh,” she sounded sad, “Well I guess it’s not the social circle that you introduce your breed mom to, then?”

 

It was an unexpected sentiment. There was no circumstance in which he could imagine being ashamed of his mom. “No! Why would you say that? You said you were busy and we didn't invite you because you never need an invitation to visit us.” 

 

“I do understand, Jensen. People with money and power, they don’t like to be reminded about people like me.”

 

Jensen had never heard his mother speak like that. She sounded different, vulnerable, and it shocked him. “Don’t be like that, mom. Did you really think that? We haven't changed overnight. We're never going to be ashamed of you. Why would we be?”

 

“ Maybe Danni and I could go shopping one day. I could call into the City Grind?”

 

“Of course. Don’t change the subject though. What do you mean by _people like you_?”

 

She was quiet for a moment before speaking. She sounded tired and cynical, “Cattle, dear. Baby machines for rich white couples, because if we are anything else it reminds them of their deficiencies. If we rise above our station then what is to stop us from rejecting their choices for us? We might produce children that outnumber theirs, that could vote them out of office like a true democracy.

 

“You think I haven’t invited you here because we have new, rich friends?” Jensen bit back a laugh, “Mom, we are exactly the same and there are no new friends. We wouldn't want to be friends with people like that. We work, we go back to Helix House, and we watch T.V. Sometimes we swim in our pool, alone. Our chef cooks dinner for us. You can come and see us any time you want. It’s been weird that’s all.”

 

“And you don’t call it home,” observed Martha Ackles, “So what’s wrong with it?”

 

His hand was freezing on his phone. He swapped hands and stuffed it into the warmth of his pocket, picking at the soft lining, “I don’t know. It’s…complicated, and Danni’s pissed with me.”

 

“Ah, you argued. Maybe you should be talking to her.”

 

“I guess, but not yet.”

 

His mom’s voice trembled a little, “Is it drugs?”

 

“No. No!”

 

“Only that time when Miles and you were friends…,”

 

“It’s not drugs, or alcohol, nothing like that. Not even tax. Danni wants me to do the right thing.”

 

“Danni is the sensible one.”

 

“I’m not sure what the right thing is.”

 

“Jensen, we brought you up to know the difference between right and wrong, or to figure it out if you weren't sure.”

 

He frowned and his voice cracked a little, “What if the law and the rest of society don’t agree with us? What if Danni and I don't agree?”

 

There was a long pause before his mother spoke again,

 

“You know, before I was matched to your father I had other children, at a hostel. There were a lot of rules. There were a lot more things that we were told were wrong for us, that would make us undesirable or send us to hell. There was an older girl there and I thought she was the bomb, because whatever they said or did to her, she wouldn't conform. She was a rebel and I will admit to some hero-worship. One day I found her alone in the kitchen. She had the weighing scales and a pile of stones. I asked her what she was doing. She said - weighing things up. I said I didn't get it, and she explained.

 

She maintained that justice and right and wrong wasn't about what we were taught but about weighing out the harm to real, living beings. It wasn't about money, or what was written on paper, and not even about the unborn life in anyone's belly. So, when she was struggling with an argument, she used stones, and she placed them on the scales. There were stones with the potential to do harm and stones with the potential to do good. She had no stones for words, law or opinions.

 

It made sense to me. I think about her sometimes, and when I struggle with right and wrong I will line up my imaginary stones and see how they balance on the scales. You have weigh it up, Jensen, but you must remember to put any harm that may come to you and Danneel into your equation - there should be a stone for that."

 

Jensen liked the idea. “It's weird to think of you without dad. I mean, I always knew you had other children before me, but you've never said much. I like the story. It's deep. Do you know what happened to your friend?"

 

"I don't. I was happy with your father and mother. I like to imagine that she got through it all and is happy too."

 

"Me too," Jensen agreed. "You know, mom, if I'm weighing things out, there will be a stone for you.”

 

“I’m getting old. Whatever you’re getting into, don’t shut me out because you’re afraid of the consequences. I’m your mother and I’ll love you whatever you do. There is little that can harm me more than the thought of my children being in trouble or in pain.”

 

He loved her, and it hurt to think that she believed that an inheritance could come between them. He leaned back against the wood of the bench, where ice crystals crept together to form patterns, “Thanks mom. You know I love you right? I’ll get Danni to ring you to plan that shopping trip.”

 

“You do that. Danneel and I shall spend a lot of money on trivial and pretty things, and we will have fun, Jensen. Why don’t you go back to her and work things out? I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“Bye, darling.”

 

“Mom…,”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Will you tell me about it one day, about the hostel, before you were matched to daddy?”

 

“I’m not sure you want to know, Jensen. I don't want you to think that any of it was your fault. Your father and I decided that your childhood should be just that – a childhood, innocent from any struggles we had. I had hoped you would remember it that way.”

 

“You're my mother. Your life and your history is important to me. It is a part of me. In other cultures all your children would be family. I think I need to know.”

 

She laughed, “Be careful you don't dig too deep. Do you know how many people have sneaked a look at hostel records, only to discover that they are dating a half brother or half sister?”

 

Jensen drew a sharp breath, “Tell me you're joking.”

 

His mother laughed again, “Jensen, what do you think is going to happen when babies are adopted willy-nilly with their records closed? It should be a scandal right? But mankind couldn't have got itself into more of a mess than its already in. It's not like a little incest can make it worse. Love is never the problem.”

 

“Except when their children are born with defects,” Jensen argued.

 

“Sweetheart, these days you can't be sure you're going to count to ten on anybody's fingers or toes. There are people with two faces and men who can get pregnant. The upstanding leaders of our communities continue to let breeding hostels have an untreated water supply. The ordinary folks still have to drink untreated water and walk in the rain. I hear little condemnation of that.”

 

Jensen couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You shouldn't say those things,” he whispered into the phone, like it could betray them for the simplest thoughts, and maybe it could. “Who took my mother and replaced her with some radical hippy chick?”

 

“Oh, shush! My baby is all grown-up and asking me about adult things. I may as well be the adult I am around him.”

 

“I haven't been your baby for a long time, mom.”

 

“Is that what your argument with Danneel was about – having children?” The humor had gone from her voice.

 

“In a way.”

 

“Then you definitely need to go back to her. Weigh some stones and talk to her. Go!”

 

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks mom.”

 

“Goodnight Jensen.”

 

“Bye, mom.”

 

Clouds gathered and hid the moon.

 

Jensen clicked his cell phone off and pocketed it. He sat in silence, contemplating everything his mother had told him. He imagined flat pebbles from a beach, smooth and cold in his hand, and pictured them again, stacked in piles. He mentally counted them and thought he might be an asshole. He should find a way to view Jared differently and he had to go back and apologize to Danneel.

 

He couldn't feel his fingers. He blew air into his cupped hands to warm them, then stood to make his way back to the house. Without moonlight, the path was a black hole through trees which rustled and groaned in night-eerie air. A sudden noise away to his right caught his attention and he squinted in that direction. There was movement, something like footsteps, but he couldn’t make out any shape. Probably an owl or a fox.

 

A shrill whistle and indecipherable shout cut through the atmosphere and Jensen couldn’t make out where it came from. He shivered and he was unsure if it was only because of the cold. He picked up his pace to a fast walk, heading toward the light that blazed in the kitchen, unsteady on rough ground that he couldn't see. He couldn't recall the layout of the garden and he wished he had a torch, before remembering the light on his phone. He retrieved it from his pocket.

 

Something crashed through the undergrowth nearby. He could swear he heard its rough, panting, breath. It approached him fast and Jensen froze. There had to be a rational explanation but it was difficult to control the panic welling up inside him. He should call somebody, maybe 911. He fumbled to turn his phone on and it slid through ice-clumsy fingers and landed with a sharp smack somewhere on the ground. His chances without it seemed slim so he bent to retrieve it.

 

It was too late. Approaching ahead of him footsteps slapped the surface and a figure loomed. Beside him, leaves whispered as shrubbery shook. Jensen saw no reason not to panic any more. He tried to run away. As he twisted around, his foot failed to get a grip on the slippery surface. Hot pain shot through his ankle. He was already unbalanced when a solid weight, with claws and wet fur crashed into him. He went down. There was more pain; the clash of tree stump on the side of his head, sparks of color and light in his vision, and the scrape of gravel on his face. Then there was nothing.

***

 

Cupboard doors opened with a smack and then bounced shut. Goddamn! It was Danneel’s kitchen and she would bake if she wanted to.

 

The oven controls were simple and there was an obvious order to the mixing bowls and store cupboards. She found the kitchen scales on the counter and weighed her ingredients carefully. A fine layer of flour soon coated the surfaces around her. Danneel's fingers rubbed butter into soft flour and vanilla sugar to the soundtrack of thumping pop music.

 

“Asshole!” she cussed. She ground her teeth angrily and butter squished between her fingers. The mix in the bowl became lumpy rather than light and she cussed again.

 

She didn’t hear anyone come into the kitchen, but she felt the muscular, warm arms that surrounded her, and the huge hands which took hers gently.

 

Jared’s breath ghosted warm over her neck and she shivered. “You need to caress it.” The closeness, his solid presence and cinnamon–spice scent was intoxicating.

 

“What do you know?” she asked defiantly, but she let his fingers entwine with hers and delve back into the cool mix, demonstrating a light feathering technique. The sexual overtone was clear and _bad, and deliciously wrong_.

 

“I can bake.” He stooped a little until his chin rested on her shoulder, “See, I’m a well trained breeder. It’s all in _the fingering.”_ He gave a suggestive chuckle.

 

“What if I wanted to give it a pounding?” she growled.

 

“Then maybe it’s not the cookies you should be making out with.” His lips traced over her hair and he breathed in the scent of her shampoo. It smelt as sweet as the cookies – as sweet as revenge could be.

 

Jared’s arms circled around her waist just a little tighter and his body pressed up behind her. They worked the mixture together, hands moving in time, bodies in rhythm, and Danneel was still angry with Jensen, couldn’t care if he found them together. Jensen had done worse things with others, in this house and she had suffered.

 

Fine breadcrumbs rolled into firm dough and still they worked together, with fast hitched breaths and flushed cheeks. Sinking the cookie cutter into the dough was satisfying and Jared followed her each round with a fork, dotting air-holes precisely. When the dough was almost gone he reached around to snatch the remainder, rolled it between his fingers and took a bite. He spun her around in his arms, to face him and teased her mouth open with the pads of his fingers. He placed the dough between her teeth and it melted on her tongue, sweet and delicious.

 

“It’s good,” she announced her verdict.

 

“It’s exquisite.” Jared’s eyes were soft hazel rings around wide black pupils and he was staring at the flex of her mouth as she licked her lips. He wasn’t describing the dough.

 

“Make him family,” is what McNiven had suggested. Danneel silenced her inner conscience and hooked her hand around his jaw, maneuvering his face to hers.

 

Jared paused just before his lips met hers.  It was too easy. Like taking candy from a child. He gave her a questioning look – _are you sure?_

 

She stood on tiptoes, just enough to press her lips to his, to taste the sweetness that was already on her tongue. He swiped his tongue into her welcoming mouth and it was perfect, leisurely and gentle. He held back, let her lead, and the brush of his fingers on her neck was a delicate invitation. This was nothing like Jensen’s heated passion and yet it thrilled her. Pounding Jared seemed like a good idea. She ground up against him and she could feel the hard outline of his cock through his pants. She whimpered. This had got way out of hand but she didn’t want to stop.

 

Jared closed his eyes and enjoyed the thrill of the grind. It didn't feel as good as it should. Danneel was sweet as honey, but none of this was for the right reasons. He had done worse, many times before, but this was different – he was sober and aware. Danneel didn't deserve to be the victim of his petty machinations. Then there was Milly, and she needed more than Jared could give her alone.

 

Jared pulled away. “Sorry,” he said, between fast breaths, “I wanted to. I planned to.”

 

“You can,” she caressed a thumb over his jaw, feeling the graze of stubble.

 

“Not like this.”

 

Her frustration mounted, “Then how?”

 

“With consent,” he murmured, and strands of hair flopped to mask his eyes.

 

She closed the distance between them and lifted his hand to her waist. She ground up against him again, “I consent,” she purred. 

 

He took a step back from her. “Jensen’s consent, joint consent. You _are_ happy with him,” he clarified, and her gut twisted because the words seemed so wrong coming from Jared. They should have been hers.

 

He was halfway to the door in moments, leaving her cold and unsatisfied, “I can’t screw up, not now. Not when you're being so nice to me. Not when Milly needs a family. ” He adjusted his trousers and his cheeks were wine red with arousal and embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said again, and then he was gone.

 

Cookie dough was left to dry in the heat of the kitchen where the light burned in an empty room.

 

In their bedroom, Danneel got naked on the bed. One of her hands stroked her tits. Her fingers squeezed them and played with her nipples, while she rocked savagely on the fingers of her other hand, sinking them deep into her own tight heat. Her mind roamed over an image of Jared pinned to the mattress beneath her while she rode his cock. Her pussy was filled to the hilt and they fucked hard. His cock slid over her soaking wet clit with every thrust, and she grasped a handful of his sweat-messy hair to tug his face to her tits. His mouth teased and tasted them, latched on and suckled her nipples.

 

It didn’t take her long to come, biting on the inside of her cheek to stifle her cries.

 

It was only once she had taken a shower and donned her pajamas that it occurred to her that she hadn’t seen or heard Jensen since their argument. Guilt and worry crept in where arousal had been and she paced the hallways back to the kitchen. She found the abandoned cookies and tipped them into the trash. She checked the snug, the guest rooms and private rooms, and checked them again in reverse. There was no sign of Jensen and no indication that he had been in any of them. Calls to his cell phone found it switched off and her messages went unanswered.

 

She hammered on the white door with the little spy hole and Jared opened up, looking sleep-mussed and wary.

 

“I can’t find Jensen,” she blurted out, before he could say anything. She was close to tears.

 

Jared rubbed his eyes and peered at her, confused, “I thought you guys argued.”

 

“We did, but he doesn’t normally stay angry. He comes back to talk it out.” She stopped and narrowed her eyes with suspicion, “How do you know we argued?”

 

He shrugged his shoulders, “I eavesdrop.” It was said without a hint of shame.

 

“Ugh. Then you heard. You set me up! I guess you don’t care.” She felt sick and ashamed that Jared had played her. She wondered what else he might be capable of but it wasn't the time to dwell on it.

 

“I didn't follow through.” There was a spot of high color in his cheeks, either embarrassment or shame. “You’re upset and I care about that. I didn’t do anything to him, if that’s what you’re wondering. Maybe he was really pissed. You told him to find another bed. Did you look in the other bedrooms?” Jared didn’t see any urgency in her situation.

 

“I looked everywhere, and our car is still in the drive.”

 

“He could have taken any of the cars in the garage and gone back to your old home.”

 

“But he wouldn’t have,” she insisted. Her hand flew to her mouth as she had an awful thought, “What if he saw us in the kitchen?”

 

Jared dismissed it, “There’s no way he would have walked away from that.”

 

She knew Jared was right. Jensen would have seen red. He wouldn’t have retreated silently.

 

“Have you called his number? Did you check the CCTV?” Jared asked.

 

Danneel shook her head. “His phone’s off.” Of course she’d seen the cameras, but she didn’t know where the footage was kept.

 

Jared yawned, “Hang on.” He grabbed a hoodie from a hook by the door and shrugged it on, put a key in his pocket and stepped over the threshold to join her. “C’mon, I know the house better than you. We’ll search together.”

 

***

 

 

Jensen lay somewhere soft. His mouth was dry and there was a pounding pain in his head. His foot was numb with cold and something was slobbering, warm and wet, on his hand. He struggled to open his eyes but the light was too bright and he shut them again.

 

“Stay still.”

 

Cool water tickled as it slid down his face and he yelped in surprise and sudden hot pain. He could smell antiseptic and hear the click of something small dropping into a metal bowl.

 

“I've got to get the gravel out of this graze,” someone said.

 

“Ugh.” Now that Jensen was awake he was aware that it wasn’t just his head that hurt. The skin on his face and elbow smarted, the muscles in his torso ached. Underneath an ice-cold cover on his foot, his ankle throbbed.

 

The slobbering on his hand continued and he could hear panting and the rhythmic thud of a tail against the floor. There was a distinctive smell that lingered under the antiseptic – _wet dog._

 

“What were you doing out in the arboretum in the pitch dark? You should at least have let me know.”

 

Jensen was being chastised in a southern drawl that only took a few moments to place. “Travis?”

 

“You know who I am. That’s reassuring. Do you remember what happened?”

 

Everything seemed fuzzy, but he could piece together his memories, “There was somebody in the garden. They were chasing me. I dropped my phone and then they hit me.”

 

Travis laughed and Jensen wondered if it was inappropriate in the circumstances, “Oh, man! Nobody was chasing you. I was walking Mumps. He got one whiff of you and he wanted to play, and he’s too large to be jumping on unsuspecting folks. You slipped and bumped your head.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I swear I will have words with Jared. There is no controlling his dog when it wants to play,”

 

There was a whimper from beside Jensen, “Yes! Bad dog!” Travis scolded.

 

The disgusting slobber on Jensen's hand only increased. Jensen opened one eye and lifted his head to look into the sad brown eyes of an enormous, ugly mongrel sitting by his side. His coloring was grey-flecked black and brown, his muzzle was white with age, and his shape was somewhere between a Wolfhound and Rottweiler. Despite his size, he looked cowed and contrite.

 

“Oh. Ow,” Jensen let his head fall back on what he could now identify as the cushion of a sofa. “It's our garden. We can go there whenever we like.”

 

Travis continued the careful swipe of antiseptic over his wounds, “It is, but Miles and Jared always warned us when they would be out there at night. Either Christian or I will be on the grounds. You can always contact one of us. I would have kept Mumps on a leash, and anyway you wouldn’t want me to think that you were an intruder.”

 

“We get intruders?”

 

“Not usually, but after Miles died, there was the press, and a few strange incursions. Somebody broke in and dug up a rose bush - can you believe that? It used to be that Jared could pass as Miles if he was seen, but that’s gone to hell. So we stay vigilant.” Travis dabbed dry lint over Jensen’s cheek, and disposed of it. He made a fist and stuck up his thumb, “There. How many fingers am I holding up?”

 

“None, thumb,” Jensen replied.

 

“Well, you worried me for a while. You were out for a few minutes, but I don’t think you’ll need a trip to the ER.”

 

“How would you know?” Jensen couldn’t help being a little grumpy in his pain.

 

“Marine medic,” Travis announced calmly.

 

“Ah. Wow. Jared said we’d been rude. We should have a meeting, so we know more about the household and about y'all.”

 

“Later. For now I’ll get you some painkillers, and put a support bandage on that ankle. Then you should rest. Someone should check you every hour. I can get you back to your own room or you can stay and I’ll do it.”

 

It occurred to Jensen that he didn’t know where he was. It was a very comfortable sofa, but he didn’t recognize it. Travis read his mind, “You’re in my quarters, in the garage annex. You're heavy and it was closest.”

 

“Huh." He thought that Travis must have some impressive muscles for his wiry frame. 

 

"Fireman's carry," explained Travis. "Not dainty, but you weren't in a position to complain."

 

Jensen didn't feel like getting up and testing his aching body. "Can you do it? Danni has to get to work early in the morning, and she’s pissed at me anyway.”

 

“Sure. I’ll patch you up and let her know.”

 

Mumps groaned next to Jensen and pushed an eager, wet nose into his hand. “What the hell is wrong with Jared’s pets?” he complained, more to the dog than to Travis. 

 

Mumps wagged his tail noisily against the floor and rubbed his face up Jensen's hand until his ear was resting in his palm, begging for a rub.

 

Jensen shut his eyes and let his fingers tangle in the dog's fur. “Stupid mutt,” he grumbled.

***

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Your dog attacked me,” was Jensen’s explanation when Jared had asked what had happened to him, “And my phone is smashed up.”

 

Travis clicked his tongue against his teeth in frustration, “Mumps was only playing.”

 

“He's huge. He should have been trained with treats or something. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?” Jensen snapped. He regretted it almost as soon as the words were spoken.

 

Jared chewed his lip. He stood back while Danneel fussed over Jensen. Mumps continued to wag his tail and beg attention from Jensen. The _dumb dog_ loved anyone who was willing to pet him, but it felt like desertion. “You’re fussing him,” he pointed out.

 

Jensen's head hurt like a bitch. He tried to think of a more light-hearted come back but only managed, “Dog can’t help who his owner is.” He thought he should probably shut his mouth.

 

“Ssh, Jen,” Danneel protested half-heartedly and kissed her husband on the lips, as if to make a point to Jared. 

 

Jared was on the outside again. He knew he'd alienated Danneel with his stupid maneuver on her. He always fucked up with the ones he really liked. “No,” he said, “Can’t help loving the wrong people either. We all make stupid mistakes.” He didn’t elaborate. Let them think what they wanted of his relationship with Miles, it wasn’t the mistake he was referring to. Still, even Miles had died with a hooker rather than come home to him.

Danneel held Jensen's hand and demanded that he tell her the whole story. Her head dipped low and intimate to listen to him. 

“Jared…,” Travis oozed sympathy.

Jared couldn’t handle it just now. Maybe his father had been right about him. He was born wrong. At least he had been a pretty twink as a teenager. Everyone had said it. He should have accepted his place, serving at the feet of another man, to be bred and petted without responsibilities or heady ambitions of love. Now, he was too old, too big and too clumsy to be anybody's first choice, and perpetually an outsider in his own life. His fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it until strands fell loose on his shoulder. “I should go. Milly will be home in the morning.”

 

Nobody asked him to stay. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked to the main house with his shoulders hunched, kicking up gravel like a moody child.

 

A few minutes later Danneel laughed and Jensen groaned, “Ssh. Too loud. I like Jared more than you right now. He's nice and quiet. Isn't that right?”

 

Travis cleared his throat. They both looked around. “Where's Jared?” Danneel asked, “I didn't thank him for getting out of bed to look for this asshole.”

 

“He did?” Jensen was surprised.

 

“Yeah, even if you didn't deserve it.”

 

“He went home. He needs his sleep to keep up with Milly,” Travis told them. “Jensen should rest too. Go to bed, Danneel. I'll look after him.”

 

She bent over and kissed Jensen, this time on the cheek. He grabbed her hand, “I didn't tell you I'm sorry. I've been thinking and I'm an ass, okay. I'm going to try harder with you and with Jared.”

 

“Wow. You did crack your head,” joked Danneel, but his apology made her feel like a bitch. Sometimes he did and said things in the heat of the moment, but he rarely stayed angry and he worked to make things right. In her anger she'd almost screwed everything up with Jensen, and almost certainly made the whole mess with Jared even worse.

 

Jensen gave her a sleepy smile. “Mmhmm.” Shock was wearing off and analgesics were kicking in. “Now go,” he insisted.

 

“I'll give you a buzz if anything happens,” promised Travis.

***

 

The next morning Danneel left Jensen in Travis's care while she went to work.

 

The media were gone and the coffee shop had returned to it’s usual pace. Alongside Osric, Genevieve had made it through the paparazzi-mad weeks to become an efficient barista and the City Grind was running smoothly. Osric proposed a new, light coffee blend with notes of cardamom, for spring.  They tasted it together and Danneel pronounced it bright with a flowery after-taste. They debated names for the blend and plumped for City Grind's Spring Awakening. It dropped Danneel back into the ordinary routine of her life before Helix House and it was as refreshing as the coffee. The only thing missing was Jensen, waiting in his office for her to bring refreshments.  

 

After the lunchtime rush, Danneel finally had the opportunity to assess possible investments for her small business. It was a whole lot easier to think about than her messy private life. She trailed clean fingernails over the smooth Formica of the booths and onto the faux-leather seats. She could upgrade those to modern steel and black leather to match the high-end grinders and espresso makers that they used. The shop unit adjacent to the City Grind was on a short contract lease to a stationary outlet. If it became available then she could expand with a modern kitchen for conference catering too. She doodled plans on a paper napkin.

 

Gen vaulted into the seat next to Danneel for her break. She slurped her double chocolate vanilla cream frappé through a glittery straw. “Os said that Steve from Jensen's office said that Jensen got knocked out by your dog. I didn’t know you had a dog.”

 

It hurt Danneel's brain to keep up with Genevieve's gossip some days. “We don’t,” she answered automatically.

 

“Oh, so how did he break his ankle? Or is he playing hookey? I won't tell.”

 

Danneel was barely listening, She sketched the hob for her imaginary kitchen, “He only twisted his ankle and the dog is Jar….”

 

 _Shit!_ She stopped drawing and screwed up the napkin. A cold sweat beaded on her brow. It was shocking how easily a few unguarded words might screw up their entire lives.

 

“The dog is a household pet. Miles kept him around.”

 

“Are you going to keep him?”

 

Danneel chewed her pencil. It was a difficult question, but she wasn’t thinking of Mumps. “I don’t know.” she replied. The enormity of the secret they were keeping seemed somehow a whole lot more real and dangerous away from Helix House, in the mundane flow of life.

 

“Oh, you have to. It’s cool having a dog.”

 

“Except when it knocks my husband out.”

 

“Oh, oh!” Gen did jazz hands, “You can bring him over tonight, with Jensen. Osric got a beta version of the latest Dragon Quest. We were going to check it out. We could make a night of it. Pizza, beer and dog biscuits.”

 

Osric looked over from behind the counter, “I’m down with that,” he agreed.

 

A month ago it would have been so simple to say yes and hang out with friends. Now, it was fraught with the danger of doing or saying the wrong thing.

 

“Jensen has to rest. We’ll give it a rain-check, but it sounds awesome. Do you both play?”

 

Gen nodded, and she was bouncing in her seat. She was always full of energy. Maybe it was down to the sweet drinks she insisted on consuming. When she spoke again it was a gush of enthusiastic chatter about strategy and opponents and Osric.

 

“Wait. Are you and Osric dating?”

 

Gen blushed and Osric sniggered, “Yeah,” they answered together, before Gen became serious and wide eyed and asked, “We’re allowed to, right? I mean we don’t do anything here, like kissing and stuff, and we won’t let it affect our work.”

 

Danneel smiled, it was the least of her worries, and they made a cute couple. She wagged her finger, “You don’t make out in front of the customers and you take breaks separately.”

 

The banter that followed was a welcome distraction from her problems.

 

***

 

Jensen's skull pounded in time with the drumming behind his eyes. He plopped himself into a reclining chair to watch T.V. in one of the smaller sitting rooms. After a time it was all too bright and too loud. He limped to the library where ageing books smelt of history and wisdom. The air was still, and a squashy armchair by the 'P' shelf made a comfortable place to doze.

 

Christian replaced Travis carrying out regular checks and bringing painkillers, and he glowered without saying a word as he handed Jensen his medication. Great, Jensen thought, these were the people sharing his home for the foreseeable future.

 

He examined the books on the shelf beside him. There was a set of volumes marked 'Padalecki' so he slipped them from the shelf and browsed through them. Not unsurprisingly he found them to be a history of the Padalecki family, mostly comprised of images of Jared's grandfather and father posing during various political campaigns. Their achievements were onerously listed and pompously recalled in 'amusing' anecdotes. The books were never going to be a best seller, but the later volumes contained snippets from Miles Padalecki's early life, so he flicked through those pages.

 

On one page, a five year old Miles stared arrogantly from the seat of a miniature Porsche. He was the same age as Milly was now but Jensen couldn't see many similarities. There were other pictures of Miles growing up, always with a sour faced butler, Mr. Lehne, towering over his shoulder. Miles didn't look like he was having fun in any of them. Jensen studied the photographs, trying to discern if any of them were in fact Jared. He couldn't tell. There were pictures of Samantha Smith, next to a newly planted monkey puzzle tree, and another of the entire staff of the time, posing like a Victorian household. Christian and Travis weren't among them. There wasn't a mention of Miles's breed mother and no indication that Jared had ever been born.

 

Miles's father died before Miles and Jensen ever met. Looking at these records he was fairly sure he would have hated the man and he didn't remember Miles sharing any fond family memories.

 

Mid-afternoon, Christian handed him his meds and finally gave into what was obviously bothering him.

 

“You were supposed to talk to Jared yesterday. Provide some support maybe. You had one movie evening, which should have been fun, _just one_ , and you’ve devastated him. So what, if he doesn’t fit with your prissy family ideals? It’s not like he’s had the chance. You come here, while he is grieving and vulnerable, to take everything that should have been his and you have the gall to turn your nose up at him.” Christian stood up while Jensen was still reeling from the reprimand. “This evening, I’m cooking a formal dinner and serving it in the dining room. You will be there and so will Jared.”

 

Jensen thought that Kane’s attitude sucked, “We didn’t ask for that. You’re supposed to work for us,” he replied as firmly as could manage from his reclined position.

 

Christian straightened. He blew his hair out of blue eyes set in steely determination, “Then you can fire me,” he said, before adding, “In about a year’s time.” His voice softened slightly as he spoke again, “Jared is not a bad kid. If you could cope with Miles, then Jared is a cinch. Y'know he saw Miles through every crisis; he nursed him through hangovers, withdrawals and overdoses – because yes, there were a few. For most of their lives they only had each other to rely on and it's not easy for him to let anyone in. Don’t judge Jared when you don’t know him.” ”

 

“Look. He didn’t give us a chance. _He_ called himself a freak and walked out on _us._ ”

 

“Oh, and you didn’t stop him?” Kane seemed to deflate a little, “Then you’re all idiots.” He turned on his heel, “Dinner is at eight,” he said.

 

Jensen hmphed and closed his eyes. He dozed.

 

Something smooth and hard hit him on the knee and he startled.

 

“Read to me?” Milly stood beside him, proffering a shiny large-print book.

 

He ran a hand through his hair and yawned, “Where’s your daddy?” He had no wish to clash with Jared over Milly today.

 

Milly pouted, “He’s sad,” she said, putting the book in Jensen’s lap. Wide and hopeful hazel eyes looked up at him through strands of strawberry blonde hair.

***

 

Much to Milly’s delight, Tractor Tom rescued the farmyard sheep, and she crawled up onto Jensen’s knee to curl into his chest, sucking her thumb, while he read the story a second and a third time. Milly smelled of bubblegum and baby powder, and her hair was silky under Jensen’s chin. She was tiny and innocent. He hugged her, feeling suddenly protective.

 

Danneel found them both sleeping there when she got home. She had never let herself imagine what it might be like to have a child with Jensen and the unexpected jolt of maternal affection she experienced was unsettling. She sneaked away to grab some juice from the fridge and when she slammed the door she found Jared behind her.

 

He backed up hurriedly, “Sorry. I was looking for Milly …I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?”

 

“She’s in the library with Jensen.”

 

“Oh, thank God. You look away for two minutes…,” Jared dashed to get her and Danneel followed him. He skidded to a halt just inside the door, to stare at the sight of Jensen and Milly, asleep on the chair. “Right,” he said quietly, and he blinked back a tear. “If she’s bothering you…”

 

Danneel put her hand on his arm, “Not at all. You take ten minutes.”

 

“I’ll be there,” he pointed a thumb towards the stairs and his rooms. He rushed away, like the devil was chasing him.

 

***

 

There was a round table set up in the dining room, with a rotating inner circle, like Danneel had seen in expensive Chinese restaurants.

 

Jared arrived with Mumps at his side, and the dog sniffed the spiced air loudly and drooled.

 

Christian Kane strode in with a tray of spring rolls, noodles and shrimp toast with dainty pots of sauces. He placed it all in the center of the table and eyed them critically.

 

“This,” he said, indicating the feast to come, “Is what is known as _talking food_. In other words, you will sit and share, and _talk_ to each other.”

 

There was not a trace of humor in his words. In fact he looked like a man who would tackle them to the floor if they tried to leave.

 

Kane grabbed Mumps’s collar to take him away. Jared’s expression soured and he opened his mouth to speak.

 

Kane spoke first, “No dogs! No children! Travis is putting Milly to bed." He pointed a serving ladle at them, one at a time. "You stay and work this out.” 

 

Jensen was silent, wondering if his sore head was making him hallucinate.

 

“You can’t…,” protested Danneel.

 

The ladle bounced menacingly in Kane's hand, “Well we have, because Travis and I have to put up with this bullshit atmosphere every day, wondering when y’all are going to deal with it. It’s not fair on Milly and it’s helping nobody. This took me all afternoon to prepare so don't you dare walk away.”

 

“I’m not very hungry,” Jared complained.

 

Kane fixed him with a glare, “You are too tall and too active to be not-hungry, so sit your butt down and stop trying to avoid your issues, because it may not be as bad as you think.”

 

Jared snorted at that.

 

“You can fire us,” Kane reminded them all, “And Travis and I can get employment easily enough, but you will all lose out when the inheritance is passed on.” He stalked out to collect the rest of the meal.

 

***

 

There are only so many comments that can be made about the subtlety of tastes and textures of food .

Jared toyed with his dinner before being the first to tackle the elephant in the room. His cheeks colored as he spoke, “ “I know you don’t like me. I’m a liability. I'm a freak with the wrong biology and I’ve done things that disgust you. You would get a better, younger match in the scheme. I can’t change any of that. I didn’t choose you either, but we’re all still here, and so is Milly. She’s the only one that matters to me.”

 

 

Under the table Danneel squeezed Jensen's knee, encouraging him to speak.

 

He carefully avoided any mention of Miles. “I don't dislike you and there's nothing offensive about your biology. We hardly know you and you've made it hard for us to get to know you, Jared.”

 

Jared shrugged. He couldn't argue with Jensen's observation.

 

 “Last night I was sore and grumpy, and I'm sorry if I was rude,” Jensen continued. 

 

Jared said what he thought Jensen wanted to hear. “S'okay, Mumps knocked you over. I should have trained him better.”

 

“He was being friendly. He must be loved if he thinks everyone wants to play with him.”

 

Danneel patted Jensen's knee in approval and leaned in to listen to Jared's reply.

 

“He is, and he's really gentle with Milly. He doesn't jump up on her and he would never let anything happen to her. He's getting so old that sometimes I think he can't play roughly any more. There are days when I throw a ball for him and he looks at me with his big dopey eyes and looks at the ball, as if to say 'get it yourself'. I didn't think he would be a problem.” Jared's hands moved as he described his dog. He was suddenly animated. It was the first time Jensen had seen him enthusiastic about anything. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and Jared shone. He talked about games in the garden with Mumps and Milly and the way that Mumps would be the first to know if anybody in the house was sick.

It was too good to last. Jared's good mood ended abruptly with a sudden, fearful question, “You're not going to get rid of him are you? I can keep him quiet and he won't bother you. You hardly knew he was here before.”

 

“No!” Daneel replied quickly.

 

Jensen wondered what sort of monsters Jared thought they were. “Of course not," he reassured Jared, " I told you before, pets are family. They should stay with you. Mumps is kind of sweet really. You should let him out around the house with Milly and with you.”

 

Jared's smile was quick and bright, “Really? Thanks.”

 

Plates were emptying and Daneel's belly was protesting. They hadn't discussed anything important and Jared was more talkative than they'd ever seen him. She decided to move things on,

 

“Why weren’t you registered, Jared? Why are you still hiding here, after all this time?”

 

Jared frowned. He stabbed a king prawn with his fork, “Apparently, father had a low sperm count. He’d been trying with different breeders and fertility drugs for years. We were unexpected. When he knew our breed-mom was expecting twins he kept it quiet. He released a fake sonogram and had us tested in the womb. We were non-identical, and I was the ultimate embarrassment - a male breeder. Miles, well he had his own problems - kidneys that didn’t function properly. Can you imagine it? Our father – this powerful politician and heir to the Padalecki fortune could only spawn a sickly baby and a mutation. All the lawsuits Padalecki had won, and all the money he had thrown at whitewashing our history, yet it seemed that God himself decided to point the finger by sending me and Miles.”

 

“You don't seem like the type to believe in a god,” Danneel noted.

 

“Why should I? I've never seen evidence of divine intervention or godly compassion. When the apocalypse arrived it was man-made, in chemicals on crops,  and no god showed up,” he answered. “Anyway, what can I say? Faith didn't make my father a good man and I wasn’t his favorite son, but I was his blood, and I had healthy kidneys.” Jared laughed, bitter and sarcastic, “He had a point, right? He never registered my birth. As far as the rest of the world knew, he was the proud father of one healthy son. My breed mother was paid off when we were three months old with all records purged. He reduced his staff to a trusted few. Miles and I got a kidney each, and I was raised to know my place - mostly unseen and ready to be the perfect slut for some old pervert, or y'know a source of spare organs if Miles got sick before that.”

 

Danneel did the math, “Milly’s five. You would have been twenty when she was conceived. Breeders are generally matched at sixteen.”

 

“This sexy body is not made for child birth.” Jared licked his fingers and traced them over his chest and down to his groin in a sexual parody. “You know how men give birth? _They don’t._ Doctors cut them open, sew ‘em up messy, and the government expect them to do it all again.” He shuddered, “Nu-uh.” He chewed his prawn, swallowed and stabbed another. “I refused.”

 

“But you have Milly?” Danneel pressed.

 

Jared put his fork down. He chewed his lip. “Miles had some wild times and I thought I could keep up. I wanted his life and his friends. Once our father was gone, I thought there was nothing to stop me. For a long time there wasn't. I got lost in the crowd and I loved it. I even pestered Miles for more parties, but then the inevitable happened. Contraband birth control isn't reliable. I found myself puking my guts down the toilet every morning and the smell of alcohol or coffee only made it worse. Milly is a wonderful, loved child, but she wasn’t planned.” He shook his head, remembering, “I was a brat about it when the test came back positive. I screamed and cried and hollered at Miles for three days straight, and he said I could have an abortion. What’s another felony on top of everything else? I couldn’t go through with it. I was selfish and I was lonely. The baby would love me. So, I stopped with the drugs and the whoring and I concentrated on Milly, and I thought that Miles would stop for her too, only he didn’t. Please don’t ever tell her that.” Jared gulped down an entire glass of wine.

 

“Not ever,” Jensen and Danneel replied together, in earnest.

 

His glass slammed back on the table, “What about you? You’re old enough to be matched. You’re in love aren’t you?” He looked directly at Danneel, as if challenging her. “Is Jensen firing blanks? I checked the register. You aren’t on it.”

 

Danneel blushed. She remembered Jared’s hands on her and waited for Jared to say something more, for it all to come crashing down around her.

 

Jared smoothed the pad of one long finger around the edge of his glass, circling it rapidly, producing a hum. He prompted her again, “So why?”

 

She stuttered her answer, “We uh, wanted the uh, laws to be changed. Jensen is fertile...” She took her husband’s hand, as if to prove a point, “But the matching scheme – it doesn’t do things right. It isn’t fair for the breeding parent or the child.”

 

Jensen took over for her, “Danneel thinks its rape.”

 

“What about you?” Jared’s hazel eyes focused steadily on Jensen, “What do you think?”

 

Jensen spoke carefully, “I know that a match can work, but I think the way it is administered needs to change. I want a child. I was hoping that one day we could have one without government interference, with a willing partner.”

 

Jared snorted, “Idealist! You sound like Miles, but do you walk the walk?”

 

“We had a lot in common.”

 

“You didn’t stick around for him! You abandoned him without explanation!” Jared’s outburst was unexpected.

 

“Hey! We both said some things that we didn't mean but I'd grown up and my priorities had changed. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself line by line. I couldn’t be there drinking my liver into cirrhosis with him. I had to make the choice that he couldn’t.”

 

“Boys!” Danneel interrupted as Kane returned with dessert.

 

Christian raised an eyebrow at them, “Well, congratulations on your communication. Let us know what decisions you make, since Travis and I have to maintain the household and keep your asses safe.”

 

“Leave it!” Jared warned, with a knowing glance over at Jensen who was glaring at Chris, open mouthed and about to say something.

 

“Did you tell them yet?” Kane addressed Jared. He flicked a tea towel over his shoulder and scrutinized him.

 

Jensen shut his mouth and waited for the answer with interest.

 

Jared’s shoulders dropped and he looked down at the table.

 

“Tell us what?” asked Jensen, looking between them.

 

The chef backed off, hands up in surrender.

 

“What I decided,” Jared mumbled. “I was getting around to it.” He avoided eye contact, and wobbled a plate of mango jelly like a truculent teenager.

 

“What did you decide, Jared?” Danneel asked gently.

 

Whatever Jared had decided to tell them was difficult for him. What was starting to become clear was that his prickly attitude was defensive, barely covering pain and grief that lingered.

 

He picked up a paper napkin and twisted it in his hand, “Milly is like me,” he said quietly, without looking up, “She will be able to have children. I know what I said to Jensen about her, and about you not getting us. I was angry and I lied. Milly needs a legitimate family - a loving one. If nothing changes before she's eighteen and she has to be matched, I want it to be arranged by parents who will consider her needs. I will do whatever it takes for that to happen.”

 

“So what does that mean, Jared?” Jensen needed Jared to make his position clear.

 

Jared’s nervous fingers started to shred the napkin, “I know you saw an attorney, and I know what the legal advice would have been. Miles investigated it a hundred times, alongside ways to get Milly and I out of the country alive, which is a 45% chance by the way.”

 

“It’s not good odds,” commented Jensen.

 

“I should’ve gone before Milly was born, but I wanted to stay here with Miles. It felt safe. I had a crush. I was having fun. I didn't want to believe that everything would change with me and nothing would change with the system.”

 

Danneel reached a hand out to Jared, stilling his fingers. “You couldn’t have known.”

 

“I should have planned for the future,” Jared said. He took a deep breath, “That's what I have to do now. I need you to treat Milly like she is your own. A year, maybe two. I’m begging you not to turn us in until there’s a chance that you can adopt her. Whatever happens to me, she will have stability.” His next words came out in an embarrassed rush and his voice wavered, “If you do that, I will be yours, to breed. Growing up, I always knew I was going to be screwed for the greater good. I can enjoy it. I can give you pleasure the way you want it – any way it gets you off. Just ...please.”

 

And how fucked is a society when any of that proposal seems reasonable? thought Jensen. He was the first to reply, “Jared, we haven’t made any decisions with our attorney. We need more information.”

 

Jared’s eyes looked watery. He was barely holding it together. “I know you have to get me pregnant so if I’m ugly, or disgust you then you don’t have to fuck me, there’s A.I.”

 

“Jeez, Jared. You are _not_ ugly. It isn't anything like that. What you've told us, what you're asking - it's a lot to take in all at once.”

 

Danneel remembered how close she had been to revealing Jared’s presence to Genevieve, “It’s tough to keep a secret this big,” she added. “If it went wrong then Jensen would get time as well as you. Even Travis and Christian could be indicted as accessories. It’s not only about you and Milly.” It sounded harsher than she intended.

 

Jared paled, he gave her a look of disbelief and his hands trembled. He pushed back his chair and stood up.

 

Danneel hesitated, again anticipating Jared’s damning account of her behavior the night before, but it didn’t come.

 

“I thought you would consider it,” was all that Jared said.

 

Jensen soothed him, “Of course we will. We only need more information, something to form a strategy.”

 

Jared paused by the doorway, “I don’t feel so good. Whatever you need – will you come and tell me?”

 

“Of course… and Jared…,”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“We'll make this work somehow. Stop panicking, okay?” Jensen urged him.

 

“What was that?” asked Danneel as the sound of Jared’s footsteps died away, “I thought you didn’t like him.”

 

“I listened to you and I was listening to him. It hasn’t been an apple pie life for him. I can accept that I overreacted. I judged him too harshly. You didn’t have to scare him. What was that all about? You were defending him yesterday,” argued Jensen, confused by her change of heart.

 

“I came this close...” She demonstrated a millimeter between thumb and forefinger, “...to telling an employee about Jared. _This_ close.” She repeated her demonstration. “It was so fucking easy to slip. There is a real world outside these gates and it is vigilant and cruel. It could be one comment to one person and I will lose you, Jared will lose Milly, and I will be the reason. I don’t know whether I can commit to that.”

 

“We've been committing the crime for weeks, and Jared _will_ lose Milly if we don't help him! He’s handsome. Are you sure you’re not jealous? Sex would only be with your consent.”

 

She couldn’t help her laugh, “Jealous? Of you and him? Honey, if we agree to this, then I will be expecting to play too. Jared’s hot. Do you think you’ll be alone in the bedroom with him?”

 

Jensen’s eyes widened, “Seriously? I mean Jared's childhood and now his suggestion, it's all pretty fucked up. You don't think it's rape if it's us?”

 

“Seriously! There's no difference if it's you or me or both of us. His proposal is exactly what McNiven suggested - ge _t him pregnant, and b_ _e an effective family unit._  We're not going to tie him down and make him do anything he doesn't agree to.If you want this to happen, then this becomes a threesome, not an easy fuck on the side or weird impregnation sex. ”

 

Jensen couldn’t help a nervous chuckle but it faded into a needy growl as he eyed his wife in awe, “That gives me so many dirty ideas, it convinces me to make it work. Jeez, Danni. You have no idea how much I’d like to try that. I never thought you would.”

 

“Yeah, well. The flip side is that you will be changing nappies if we do have a baby.”

 

Jensen leaned back in his chair, “Crap! That got serious real quick. Are we honestly thinking of doing this? ”

 

Danneel breathed out, a long shuddering breath, “I think we’re thinking about it. Yeah. I'm just not sure I can do it.” She didn’t want to dwell on all the possible consequences, so she pointed at a plate of golden apple fritter drizzled with caramel, “Are you having one of these? Because they look amazing. Christian went to a lot of trouble. We should eat some.”

 

Jensen knew better than to push his wife on a subject once she shut it down. The problem of Jared wasn’t going to be resolved in one night. Besides, the apple fritters did look incredible. He reached out and grabbed three.

 

***

 


	8. Chapter 8

Barbie’s satin gown swished in time with the music as Milly waved her doll in one hand. Her other warm hand grasped Jensen’s and they danced together, to an old Disney song. Mumps bounced between them wagging his tail and looking a little ridiculous with his tongue lolling.

 

Jensen made a dashing prince. He was more indulgent of Milly and far more elegant than Jared. Even the dog loved Jensen better, Jared thought. He didn’t reveal himself or interrupt. He watched from afar, too proud to join them, and used the pain of it to distract from a deeper emptiness.

 

It hadn’t taken long for Milly to trust Jensen and Danneel. Jared wanted to like Jensen. He truly wanted to be happy about it and smile whenever he came upon a scene like this. He didn’t because he was bitter and jealous, and there was a hole in his heart the size of MIles. He could at least admit it, but getting over it was proving more difficult. Besides, it was now ten days since Jared had made his plea over dinner, and there had been no decision given to him. Jensen and Danneel continued as if nothing had been said, except for making carefully neutral conversation and their effort to befriend his daughter – _their daughter._

 

His heart thumped a little faster than it should. His fingers started a nervous dance against his thigh. _They didn't want him_. He was going to lose Milly and lose his freedom, and that would prove everything he had once believed about Jensen.

 

“What would Princess Barbie wear?” Jensen asked Milly with a grin.

 

She answered thoughtfully, “Princesses wear long dresses, with white lace and gold.”

 

“Do they have glass slippers on their feet?” Jensen wondered.

 

“No! Silly! Their dress is long to hide their boots. They have to run from the bad men.”

 

Jensen looked perturbed. “What is her purse like?”

 

“Big enough for her sword,” asserted Milly seriously.

 

The pretend sword may as well have been steel through Jared’s heart. All the hiding, because of him, all the times he’d said “ _No, you can’t play out there today_ ,” to keep her safe, had only robbed Milly of her innocence. He was suddenly angry with himself, with Miles, and with the unfairness of his life. Milly would be better off without him. They would all be safer without him.

 

He found himself in Miles’s bedroom without a memory of running there. It was still a mess, like his life. There was a photograph, in a silver frame, of Miles with their father, their white teeth in perfect shark-smiles. Their images were reflected in a massive, full-length mirror and he could see himself, flawed and freaky next to them. None of it was his fault and it made him angry. He was useless, less than his brother, but he had loved and been loyal. Miles hadn't appreciated any of it. The careless, entitled brat had pissed his life away and left Jared and Milly behind, to grovel to people they barely knew.

 

Jared hated his father, he hated his brother and he hated himself. He picked up the photograph and hurled it at his reflection. The mirror smashed in a satisfying arc of jagged, glistening rain. He didn’t stop there. Cologne bottles crashed into the framed artwork spilling more shards beneath their places on the walls, and drawers were upturned for Jared to slice Miles’s clothes into rags with a razor. When he was done, Jared was sweaty with exertion, and panting for breath as his blood pulsed noisily in his ears. He sank to the floor amid the aftermath of his storm and considered the razor that he held between his fingers.

 

His skin cut like butter. It parted pink and bare before the red slash of blood gathered and dripped like the spatter of rain on a window. He breathed out. Everything slowed as he watched the cream carpet suck in crimson drops, blotting and spreading the stain.

 

***

“I’m hungry,” Milly complained.

 

Jensen glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Danneel was working on at the City Grind. Having decided that they were financially stable enough for her to take a step back from the business, she was training Osric to take on some of her responsibilities. She had already approached her part time staff about additional shifts and was planning new schedules.

 

Jensen wondered if the time she spent with Milly had prompted her action. He watched the way that Danneel laughed and played with Milly and disciplined her with time-out when necessary. He saw the way his wife cooed over pictures of babies in magazines and in movies. He would be blind if he didn’t see the chemistry that sparked between Jared and Danneel, and dumb not to recognize his own jealousy. What he couldn't decide was whether his jealousy was sparked by Danneel's crush on Jared, or his own desire and inability to know him better.

 

The attorney, McNiven had worked through the information they had gathered about Milly and Jared and they had discussed law, test cases and verdicts at length. They could both admit that having a child no longer seemed as impossible as it once had, though they lacked the courage to take a final decision.

 

Milly led Jensen to the kitchen with demands for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Mumps stayed by her side, always a gentle giant with her.

 

Christian looked up from buttering bread for Milly’s supper. “Have you seen Jared?”

 

Now that Jensen considered it, he hadn’t seen Jared for hours, which was odd. Usually he hovered around Milly. He always checked in on her. He swooped in to chase her like a troll or tickle her tummy, or reassure her that daddy loved her. Jensen saw Jared eat worryingly little food but he rarely missed Milly’s mealtimes. Whatever else may have gone on in the Padalecki household, Jared was a superb daddy. “Maybe he went to sleep. He looked exhausted the last time I saw him. I’ll knock on his door. You should stay here with Milly because she says she’s starving, like a great big bear,” Jensen teased the child to lighten the mood.

 

Milly giggled.

 

Christian nodded agreement. “He doesn’t have to come down if he’s tired. Tell him we’ll bring Milly up to him after she’s eaten. Oh, and some supper for him. Tell him if he doesn’t eat something, I will kick his ass.”

 

***

 

Jensen didn’t get as far as Jared’s rooms. The door to Miles’s bedroom was open and the devastation was shocking. Jared knelt on the floor in the center of it all, as pale as porcelain and surreally calm.

 

It took a moment for Jensen to process the entire scene and then he was in the room, on his knees in front of Jared.

 

“Jared? What did you do?” He lifted one of Jared’s hands, noticing the dark blood that crusted around slashes of bright crimson oozing then trickling over almost- translucent skin.

 

Jared blinked and focused his eyes on Jensen's face, as if waking from a trance. “Didn’t mean to,” he rasped.

 

“Okay, don’t worry. We’ve got this. Let me just…,”

 

Jared groaned and opened his fist to reveal a bloody razor blade in his palm. “He left us behind,” he muttered, then, “Sorry.”

 

He offered it to Jensen and Jensen took it gingerly and set it down on the nearest surface. He looked for something to bind Jared's wounds but shattered glass from wrecked mirrors and pictures mingled with debris and fabric on the floor. He unbuttoned his own shirt with ham-fists, and cussed. He remembered basic first aid and asked Jared to lie down with his arms up, to reduce the bleed. Then he remembered the glass and shouted him to sit back up, scared that a shard would stab him in the back.

 

“We have to get you out of here and call 911,” he said.

 

That only caused Jared to freeze in horror for a moment before attempting to get up and run. He fainted into Jensen’s arms, and his sudden dead weight made Jensen fall backwards and impale his own palm on a fragment of mirror. Jensen hissed in pain and cussed again. He braced himself carefully on his other hand and shifted a half-conscious and incredibly heavy Jared to support him against his chest. The stains on the carpet spread as Jensen's blood mingled with Jared's.

 

Jensen had always assumed that he would be calm in an emergency, but apparently it was the opposite, he was failing miserably. _Of course_ he couldn’t call for emergency services or even a doctor, and he had no idea what he was going to do. He wound his shirt around Jared’s bloody wrists and tied it off tight but untidy with his injured hand. He hoped that the pressure wouldn’t cause more damage, then reminded himself that in the circumstances there wasn’t much more damage that could be done.

 

Jared stirred and nestled his head into Jensen’s chest, “Don’t let Milly see,” and his lips were soft, blue and cold as they moved against Jensen’s skin.

 

Jensen had fantasized about Jared’s lips on his bare flesh, but it was never meant to be in these circumstances.

 

“Sorry,” Jared repeated.

 

Jensen’s good hand rested on Jared’s head. He stroked his hair like he was reassuring a child, “Stop saying that,” he insisted, “Milly is having supper with Christian. You need help.” Strands of hair were silky between his fingers and he breathed in time with his actions, trying to stay calm, “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

 

“Travis,” Jared murmured.

 

Of course, it was obvious if only Jensen could think straight.

 

He patted his pockets, found his phone, took a deep breath and dialed.

 

“Travis, it’s Jared. He’s hurt. He’s bleeding. I think it’s bad.”

 

“Is he conscious?”

 

“Sort of.”

 

“Let me speak to him.”

 

Jensen put the phone by Jared’s ear. Jared frowned and tried to push it away but Jensen put it back there.

 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to,” Jared muttered into the phone, followed by the word, “Razor.” He batted the phone away again and Jensen took it.

 

Travis sounded frustrated but he wasn’t panicking. “Shit! I should have seen this coming. Stay where you are, keep pressure on the wounds. I can get to you in five.”

 

Something about his response made Jensen think that this might not have been the first time this had happened.

 

***

Jared was heavy, but Travis and Jensen managed to get him into his small apartment and onto his massive, sturdy bed.

 

Travis was cool and methodical treating Jared. Wounds were cleaned and he whistled softly as he stitched the deepest cuts and wrapped dove-white bandages neatly over them. Anaesthetic gel and a sedative injection made Jared soft eyed and relaxed but fat tears still rolled down his face.

 

Jensen stayed to help, and when Jared reached out to hold his hand he didn’t pull away. He didn’t flinch or comment when Travis cut through the fabric of Jared’s clothes to check for other wounds and thready-silver scars of previous injuries were revealed. They stripped him to be sure that no glass was lodged in his clothes and Jared didn’t seem embarrassed by his nudity. Jensen tried not to stare because Jared was muscular and lean and proportionate everywhere. The moles that dotted his skin only served to accentuate the smooth tone of it. When they were done checking, with no more injuries found, they redressed him only in PJ pants and pulled the bed covers up to his chest, with his bandaged arms in full view on top of them. 

 

“Don’t tell Chris,” Jared slurred at Travis.

 

“What? You think you’re going to hide this? Someone had to tuck Milly into bed. He can kick your ass when you’re better.”

 

“M’tired.”

 

“Not going to get rid of us that easily, Jared. One of us will stay. You know the drill.”

 

“Wasn’ tryin’ tha’,” Jared huffed, unable to form the words he wanted to speak.

 

“Go to sleep,” Travis said firmly.

 

Jared reached out to Jensen again and Jensen took his hand once more. He couldn’t imagine the grief and distress that had caused Jared to harm himself the way he had, or why he would choose to hold Jensen's hand, but the need to soothe and protect him was overwhelming. He stroked Jared's palm with his thumb slowly and rhythmically.

 

Once he was done with Jared, Travis removed the glass from Jensen's other hand and washed his wound. It smarted, but it wasn’t deep and there was little fresh blood from it. “Leave it,” insisted Jensen but he should have known that Travis would bind it anyway.

 

Jared’s eyes closed and his breath evened out. Travis nodded at Jensen, “He’ll sleep now. Can you stay until I’ve cleared the apartment out?”

 

“Cleared it out?” questioned Jensen.

 

Travis was already opening the night-stand drawer. He removed Tylenol and a nail file and moved on to the next to retrieve a stainless steel pen and a cigarette lighter. He held them up to show Jensen and Jensen understood.

 

“Do you think he’ll try to kill himself again?” he asked.

 

Travis hmmed and shook his head, “Oh, I believe Jared when he says that he wasn’t trying to kill himself. Most of the cuts were superficial. He didn’t try to get to his veins but he wasn’t careful. He dug in too deep, and went a little too far. It was stupid but easily done with a sharp razor. It's more worrying that he didn't try to stop the blood or get help. He’s emotionally unstable, and disoriented, and he’s lost a lot of blood. It’s best to take precautions.”

 

Jensen couldn’t understand it. “Why would he do that? Why cut himself? It must be so painful.”

 

“It’s a release. It blocks out emotional pain for a short time, releases endorphin and tension. Miles did drugs. Jared does this. It’s not healthy but there isn’t any help we can get for him while he’s unregistered.”

 

Jensen’s mind was making connections. “You’re too skilled to be a driver. Miles employed you because of this thing that Jared does, didn’t he?”

 

“Possibly, though I would have been his pool boy if that was what he wanted. I invested badly. Six years ago I crashed and burned. He wasn’t my only broker, but he was the only one who advised against the investments I made. I was into Mark Sheppard for thousands and he was taking me through the courts to recoup it through the prison workhouse.”

 

“Bastard!” growled Jensen, “I knew I didn’t like that man. What’s the final interest rate after legal fees and board in those places? Something like 900%? Nobody gets out for years.”

 

“Miles offered to pay my debt if I came to work for him. I agreed to privacy provisions and another clause that ties me to live on the premises. It was two months before I realized that pre-natal care and a caesarean section were going to be part of my remit, but it wasn’t like I could back out by then.” He wrinkled his nose and looked fondly at Jared, “I wouldn’t have abandoned him anyway.”

 

Jensen stayed at Jared’s bedside, and despite all of Travis and Chris’s offers he maintained his vigil, watching, as if in prayer, while Jared lay pale and listless in the fine linen of the bed. His mind wandered to the past, to Miles and to his mother. He sorted imaginary stones in his mind, counted them, stacked them in piles and balanced them in the palms of his hands.

 

Much later, Danneel joined him. She glanced at the bandages on Jared’s wrists and recoiled slightly when he opened tearful eyes and looked straight at her. He looked away again and closed his eyes without a word.

 

She kissed her husband’s forehead and held his bandaged hand gingerly, “You should come to bed. Travis will watch Jared. There’s not much we can do right now.”

 

Jensen watched Jared breathe – his lips were palest pink and slightly open, like Snow White waiting for a kiss, and the rise and fall of his chest was hypnotizing.

 

“When did we change?” he asked Danneel.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“We used to care. We would hand out leaflets, go to rallies. We agreed that if we could change our world it would be worth giving our money, our time and our freedom. Now, here I am, stressing over the correct handles for fire doors, and you – worried whether Katie should take two morning shifts or one. We don't want to risk losing any of our boring, meaningless freedom.” He looked down at Jared, stroked a strand of hair from his eye, “We've forgotten what we used to care about, _who_ we should care about.”

 

“It was idealistic. We grew up. We care. We don't support the system.”

 

“But we stopped fighting it. We should do the right thing. We can't beat the system but maybe we can change Jared and Milly's world.”

 

“Do you think he did this deliberately? A cry for our attention, or for our help.” Danneel couldn't help being a little cynical.

 

“No.” Jensen traced soft fingertips over Jared's hand, “He's done it too many times before. Travis says he does it to block out the emotional hurt, to help him carry on.”

 

“Ouch,” Danneel stared at Jared's bandages, her expression softened, “That's a lot of baggage that shouldn't be carried alone.” She rested her hand on her husband's shoulder, “So?” she sighed – and he knew her well enough to know that she was preparing to jump on board with whatever he suggested next.

 

“I know how conflicted you are about Jared, but my father used to quote Martin Luther King. There’s one line that has been in my head all night, and I can’t be rid of it – _One has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws.”_

 

“You want us to say yes to Jared? To hide Jared and Milly and damn the consequences?”

 

Jensen blew out a slow breath, “Yeah. We’ve been so afraid of how we might suffer, if we’re caught, that we’ve totally missed how much Jared is suffering _all the time_. Every day that we delay a decision is torturing him. Isn't it worth risking the future to give him some sort of life right now?”

 

Danneel bit her lip and closed her eyes in thought before snapping them open again and nodding decisively, “Yes. So, we tell him when he wakes up?”

 

“Will you hate me for it, if it all goes wrong?”

 

She gave a wry smile, “Of course I will, but I will take every penny I can scrape together and use it to get you out. My mom and dad used to have some sayings too, and one of them was that money can buy you out of any trouble. We may not have access to the whole of our inheritance yet, but even now we have more money than we ever dreamed of, and access to the best legal counsel.”

 

“We use it to help all of us,” stressed Jensen, “If it goes wrong, I’m not bailing on Milly and Jared,” he continued stroking Jared's hand, “You hear that, Jared?”

 

Jared’s fingers twitched under his hand and his breath hitched, then evened out.

 

Danneel was suddenly assertive, “We’ll take turns to care for him tonight. He’s our responsibility now.” She ducked in with a lingering, fragrant and gentle kiss on Jensen's lips, and she tasted sweet like chocolate, and more beautiful to Jensen than even the day that they had met.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

The ribbon was wide and snowy white with gold detail. It felt like the softest silk between Danneel’s fingers. The shop assistant fussed and pulled out more trays but she already knew what she wanted.

 

“Two meters, with the ends trimmed and sewn,” she confirmed.

 

The assistant smiled at her, “When is the ceremony?” he asked.

 

“I’m buying for a friend,” she lied smoothly.

 

“Your friend has great taste.”

 

She paid for the ribbon and stashed her purse in the inner pocket of her coat. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to wondering if every shopper who jostled her was a pickpocket, or if the stranger staring across the mall was secretly recording what items she purchased for some gossip rag. 

 

Martha Ackles appeared beside Danneel, her arms full of bags and boxes. “You know we should take a break. This has been fun but I’m all tuckered out from shopping with your money. Are you sure it’s alright to spend it already?”

 

Danneel smiled, “The lawyer, Aldis Hodge, assured us that we have a generous fund. It was his idea to call ahead to some designer boutiques. He even offered to do it for me, but it still feels like I don’t belong." The bags she was holding rustled as she shook them, “These are good labels but I doubt they’re nearly as expensive as the ones he suggested.”

 

“You made some wonderful choices, darling,” Martha complimented. “Now I’m not sure which I need most, a coffee or some time admiring your very fine driver. You should call him to pick us up.”

 

Danneel didn’t have the heart to tell her that Travis was only steps behind them, and had been all day. In fact, she’d spotted him herding a photographer out of their path only twenty minutes before.

 

Martha Ackles was startled by Travis’s arrival, within minutes of her suggestion. He eased the packages from their hands. “You girls look like you had fun. I should help you with these.”

 

“Thanks,” Danneel said, and then lowered her voice to a whisper, “We have to use the little girls’ room. You can go ahead and get the car.”

 

He turned to face Danneel and spoke quietly to prevent Martha overhearing him, “Can’t it wait until you’re at the coffee shop?”

 

“No! She’s not all that young!”

 

“I’m not comfortable leaving you here alone. I'll wait.”

 

“That's just weird. Why?”

 

He shrugged, “Gut feeling.”

 

“That’s stupid!” she growled under breath, “There's nothing interesting about us visiting the rest room. I'm still an ordinary person and I’ve barely any cash on me. I don't even wear expensive jewelry. We’ll be two minutes. You can pull the car around to the front of the mall for us. I don’t want to ruin the day for her.”

 

“Is that a direct order?” Travis looked grim. It wasn’t the first time they had clashed over his constant presence.

 

Danneel pulled herself straight, she had to get used to being in charge, “Yes!”

 

“Be quick. Don’t stop and talk to anyone. I’ll be waiting in the pick up area.”

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, _dad_."

 

Danneel waited on a seat outside the rest room while Martha freshened up. Her feet ached and her skin felt tight from the constant blast of warm shop air. Still, it had been a dream come true for any girl; she had picked up items, chosen gifts and tried on clothes and never once had to examine the price tag. It was unreal and a little giddying.

 

“Well, I thought we’d never be rid of that nuisance of yours. Well played missy.”

 

She recognized the voice. A hand gripped her left arm and she fought the urge to punch or scream.

 

“Money is a wonderful thing isn’t it?”  


“Let me go before I scream.”

 

“Is that any way to address a friend, a brother in arms?” Mark Sheppard spoke smoothly and low. “Let's cut to the chase. You have a problem that I can solve, and everyone can be happy. Well, except maybe ... ah well,” he grinned, all teeth, like a shark.

 

“I don’t have any problems,” hissed Danneel. She snatched her arm from his grip.

 

“You inherited something … _problematic_ , that is owed to me. I can take care of it for you. Nobody except us has to know that _it_ , well, _he_ , was ever there.”

 

Danneel thought her heart might stop. She felt sick and hot and cold, all at once, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I have to go.”

 

“Ah, but you wouldn’t leave without the mother-in-law. That would be rude.”

 

People still teemed around them, doing ordinary things in their ordinary world. They saw the mall's bright lights and garish banners, perfect mannequins and their own reflection in shined windows. None of them knew or cared that she was a criminal, or that this man's presence was unwelcome.

 

“We’re happy with all our staff. I can’t think of any problem,” she claimed.

 

“We both know I’m not talking about the staff, my dear.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

He leaned in, far too close, and smirked, “You’re lying. Maybe you need time to think. You should chat it over with your husband, away from your friendly neighborhood stalker.” He handed her a business card. “You have inherited something that was promised to me by Miles’s father. It would be in everybody’s interest to give it to me.”

 

There was a tremor in her hand but Danneel refused to show fear, “Honestly, I don’t have a clue what you are talking about. If there is something personal owed to you, then you must refer it to Aldis Hodge. In fact I shall be consulting with him as soon as possible. If there is evidence of some watch or car, or other item being rightfully yours, then we will be happy to let you have it, but as you know, the estate is in probate.”

 

The rest-room door slammed behind Martha, distracting Danneel. Mark stood and brushed invisible dirt from his camel-hair coat, as if it were contaminated by Danneel or by the ordinary mall where she shopped.

 

“Do the sensible thing,” he urged, before stepping away.

 

Martha waved and smiled at Danneel. Within moments Mark Sheppard had disappeared from her view. It was unnerving how easily he blended in with the crowd and was gone.

 

“Who was that?” Martha wondered.

 

Danneel schooled her frown into a tight smile and hid her shaking hands in her pockets. “Nobody. Some guy who was waiting for somebody.”

 

“Yet he left before anybody joined him.” If Martha had her suspicions she didn’t voice them.

 

***

 

Jensen admired the Gibson that rested by the wall of Jared's sitting room. “Wow! Do you play?” He put a hand out to lift it up, with a querying look at Jared.

 

Jared nodded his permission. “Not much. Miles had a collection and I thought it would be cool. Chris plays, so he teaches me sometimes. He says I should do something creative with my hands when I feel like I need to... y'know...” He whispered the last words, dropped his head and paused before gathering his thoughts to speak again, “He used to be in a band. He's got a great voice. Milly likes when we strum along to her nursery rhymes.”

 

The wood of it was smooth and it felt substantial in Jensen's hands. He placed it to strum a D chord but a string was broken.

 

“Sorry. I got a bit frustrated and it snapped,” Jared apologized. “Do you play?”

 

“Yeah. Not so much any more. I should dust off my old acoustic guitar. I can restring this one for you, if you like?” Jensen placed it gently back on its stand.

 

Jared grinned at him from the couch where he sat, wrapped in blankets and drinking an impossibly sweet cappuccino with an armada of marshmallows floating on the top. “Yes please. I hate to ask Chris to do more than he already does for me and I don't like to send it away. You know you can use any of the instruments in the music room. They're in the locked store cupboards.”

 

Jensen looked confused at the mention of a music room.

 

“It's the room with the grand piano in it,” Jared added.

 

“Oh, right. Well, my guitar has some good memories and we're kind of familiar, but it would be fun. We should all get together and play something.”

 

Jared's interest was piqued and he leaned forward, his hazel eyes shining with enthusiasm, in a face that was still too pale. “Does Danni play?”

 

“I am reliably informed that in high school she played the French horn in a marching band, however mentioning _that_ is sure a route to death or disfigurement.”

 

Jared laughed, “We have triangles and a cow bell. They're awesome. I'm an ace at them. Milly can use the xylophone.” He put his mug down and mimicked banging mallets over imaginary keys. He stopped abruptly and drew a sharp breath, wincing in pain.

 

“Do you need something, some more pain relief?” Jensen's concern was obvious.

 

No. No need to bother Chris. It passes. It's my own stupid fault anyway. We're having fun aren't we?”

 

And honestly? They were. It might have come as a surprise to both of them, with Travis and Danneel leaving them alone for the day, but when they allowed themselves to relax, the conversation flowed naturally. Jensen had offered to be here with Jared and he didn't fuss over him. It made it easy for Jared to accept his small touches and care; the blanket adjusted, a fresh glass of water, or curtains pulled wide for Jared see the garden. It was nice for a change – different - to feel that somebody wanted to be with him, even to care for him, not because they were family, or because they were paid to, but because they wanted to. He liked it, could get used to it, and for now he wanted to imagine it would stay that way.

 

Jensen sat beside him, taking care not to jolt him. He brushed his fingers through Jared's hair, pushing stray strands from his eyes, “Don't say that. You were ill. You don't have to punish yourself. Seriously, I can go and get something.”

 

Jared leaned into his touch. As if to prove a point, his fingers flexed carefully on top of his blanket, tapping, one after the other, “See, I only have to remember not to move my hands suddenly.”

 

“Okay, but what do you think that Christian does when he's not cooking or running after us? I mean, he didn't seem like the type to be in a band. I thought he was some sort of ninja spy.”

 

“Have you been asking him questions about his past?” grinned Jared.

 

“Man! He can flip Travis to the floor like he's a rag doll and Travis is like a black belt in everything. Also, he talks around in circles without actually telling us anything about himself. All I know is that whatever he used to do, he's retired from it, and Miles offered him privacy and an opportunity to cook, which he loves.”

 

“I don't ask what he does,” said Jared, “Maybe he sneaks around and climbs up the exterior walls, just to rappel back down them when we're not looking, or perhaps he gets Samantha to stand against a wall so he can practice throwing his knives around her.”

 

“He probably goes down to the wine cellar and turns off the lights to perfect his saber fighting in the dark,” continued Jensen.

 

“Or inserts secret messages into the books in the library...”

 

Jared relaxed as they joked about ever more ridiculous theories. His fingers stilled. He let himself think that his life might get better.

 

***

Jensen’s mom was the last person who Jensen was expecting to see in his kitchen, admiring Chris’s knife collection and sipping coffee with Daneel. It certainly explained the frantic text activity between Jared and Travis, which had prompted Jared to check the exact whereabouts of Milly and Sam.

 

Martha raised her eyebrows at her son, “We had a lovely time at the mall,” she said, too sweetly for it to be all that she intended to discuss with him.

 

Danneel gesticulated behind her back, something to the effect that she couldn’t stop Martha from interfering.

 

Jensen had been there before. His mom was a force to be reckoned with when she got an idea in her head, and apparently even Travis had found no argument which could tactfully defer her visit.

 

“You know, I would be horribly offended if you think that I am only here for you when everything is just peachy.” Martha narrowed her eyes at him, and her jaw was set in a firm line – a sure sign that she knew Jensen was hiding something from her. “And I didn’t make it through child-birth and pseudo-slavery for anybody to assume that I am afraid of the people who run the system or would berate you for wanting your own children.”

 

“Mom!” he crossed the room and kissed her on her cheek, “I would never think that.”

 

Martha sipped her coffee, “Then you should introduce me to your new wife, or are you ashamed of me?”

 

By the open-mouthed expression on Danni’s face, Jensen guessed he wasn’t the only one who was shocked by Martha’s comment. “Martha, we wouldn’t…,” Danneel said.

 

“There is no wife,”protested Jensen, truthfully.

 

“But there is a child, and if there is a child, then there must be a breeder, which is big news politically. Padalecki Snr. was the biggest player in achieving the current breeder laws and Miles Padalecki  was known to fund its opponents. If either of them was hiding something, then it could have quite the impact.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“Which one of you is going to watch The Barbie Movie, Jensen?”

 

Danneel rolled her eyes and shrugged helplessly.

 

“Maybe we bought it for a friend’s child?”

 

“Or maybe it’s what your late night dilemma was all about.” She studied him over the rim of her mug and he knew he was defeated.

 

“Whatever!” He couldn’t help being a little annoyed, “But since when does it have to be about politics? Maybe it’s about people. Maybe it doesn’t matter who they are. They deserve privacy and care.”

 

“Ouch. You do know that politics is all about people, don’t you? Do you think I sit around all day discussing knitting patterns with other breeders who have been through the system?”

 

Jensen leaned back against the work surface, “I never really thought about it.”

 

Martha gave a brief laugh, “No, you’re busy living your life, which is what I wanted for you. I can't get butt-hurt about that, but I shall be annoyed if you keep my grandchild from me.” There was steel in her voice.

 

“It’s complicated,” was all that Jensen could manage.

 

“The child isn't ours, not officially, maybe never,” admitted Danneel.

 

“And the mother?” asked Martha, “I’m assuming that’s why you bought ribbon?”

 

Jensen rubbed his hand through his hair, “I’m not sure he’s really ours either, but we’re doing the best we can.”

 

“Him? Poor boy! Has he agreed to marry you? Or is it an inheritance match?” Martha seemed genuinely concerned.

 

“Sort of both and neither,” said Jensen, knowing he was making things as clear as mud, but _damn_ it was difficult to be honest.

 

“Unregistered?”

 

They both nodded dumbly, with a flicker of fear in their eyes.

 

Martha snorted, “Like you think _that_ is unusual, even if the family name is an unexpected one.”

 

They stared in unison.

 

“I told you. I don’t discuss domestic science. How many parents do you think want their child to live a life without freedom or choice? Sure, there are some who will unscrupulously sell a child. There are bad eggs in every society, but there are far more of the other sort. Breeders cannot vote, but there are now two generations of families who have seen corruption in the system. Every day, another mother, father or sibling has their eyes opened. They can, and are willing to face the re-education centers for the ones they love. There is a change coming. Mark my words.”

 

Jensen couldn’t resolve this radically political Martha with the gentle mother who would sing him to sleep when he was small. His mind pulled up red flags for Jared’s safety and he was suddenly protective. “None if it is Jared's fault. You’re not going to expose him for any political agenda. I won’t let you.”

 

“Good! If that isn’t what he wants, I wouldn’t dream of it. If he is your family, and it is good for you, then he and his child are also mine to cherish and protect.” Martha had put her mug down and was sitting tall, with a proud gleam in her eye, “Your father would have said the same thing.”

 

“We can’t let you suffer for our decisions,” protested Danneel.

 

“I am not some fragile flower. I am not going to gossip or boast or tell a single soul of their existence. You are important to me, so stop trying to protect me from something I don’t want to be protected from. It appears that my family is growing and I want to be part of it all."

 

Jensen made a decision, “Okay. But it has to be okay with Jared too.”

 

“Well, of course. You should introduce us.”

 

Jensen thought about the bandages that swathed Jared’s wrists, his embarrassment about his cuts, and his insistence, since their betrothal, that they only felt sorry for him. “We will, but only when he’s ready."

 

Danneel nodded her agreement.

 

Martha sighed happily, “Tell me about him. What is he like?”

 

“He’s tall and handsome…,” Danneel began, "With hair you want to run your hands through."

 

“And a great daddy,” continued Jensen.

 

Martha grinned, “Look at your faces! You are both totally gone for him!”

 

***

 

Travis peeled back the last dressing. The antiseptic stung and Jared let the pain take over and soothe his nerves momentarily. Milly peeped around the door at him and he waved with the fingers of his other hand. He didn’t want her to be scared. “Daddy is getting better,” he reassured her.

 

Milly bit her lip, she looked excited, “Maybe Pa will get better and wake up too.”

 

Travis cringed and Jared’s heart broke for her. He patted the bed by his side and she clambered up for a hug by his side. Mumps lay his big, silly head on the covers next to them.

 

“Pa is a star in the sky now, so he sent Jensen and Danneel to be with us instead. You like them don’t you?”

 

Milly’s lip quivered, “I want Pa,” she wailed.

 

“I know.” He held her tight and kissed the silky hair on her head, “I do too, but he can’t come home. Stars belong in the sky.”

 

“We could buy a rocket-ship,” she suggested sagely.

 

There were tears in Travis’s eyes as he redressed Jared’s wounds. He spoke gently, “You know, Milly, I think that your Pa is a good star. He lights up the sky for all of us. Maybe daddy could help you to send a balloon into the sky for him. You can draw him a picture and tie it on with a ribbon.”

 

“Can we, daddy?” Milly looked up at Jared, with huge, hopeful eyes, “Can we tell him that Jensen and Danneel are here and you’ve been sad. Then he will shine brighter. ”

 

Jared lost his battle against tears. He sobbed as he clung onto his daughter, “What color balloon shall we send?”

 

“Red,” she decided, "Pa likes red."

 

“Christian and I will find the very best, very shiniest red balloon for you,” Travis told her.

 

“It has to go very, very, high,” insisted Milly. She stretched her hands high above her head to demonstrate her point.

 

“Oh, it will,” Jared reassured her, and it was in that moment that he knew it was time to move on, for her sake. His resolve strengthened as he looked at  her. “And then Pa will know that we are a happy family together, like he wanted.”

 

Milly’s tears dried and she sniffed, “Danneel says I am going to be the prettiest bridesmaid ever,” she declared, before raising a hand to her mouth and gasping, “But it’s a secret.”

 

Travis’s lips curled up at the corners.

 

Jared kissed Milly again, “What’s a secret? I didn’t hear a thing.”

 

Mumps maneuvered his massive bulk onto the bed to lie against both Milly and Jared, and snuffled happily giving them sloppy wet kisses. Jared didn't have the heart to order him down.

 

Travis left them curled in a warm heap on the bed, still hurting but maybe starting to heal.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

Jensen was cosy and warm and _asleep dammit,_ or at least he had been until Danneel prodded him awake, with her fingers in his ribs in a decidedly unsexy way.

 

 “Jensen! It’s Sunday, c’mon.”

 

He groaned and put a pillow over his face, “S’too early.”

 

“No. Nu-uh. Things to do, and a suit to wear.”

 

“Can't we have sex and do everything else later,” he mumbled into the pillow as it was wrested away from him.

 

“Oh, you’ll be getting laid but not before the ceremony.”

 

“Nngh,” Jensen protested, but rolled over and stumbled out of bed anyway.

 

***

 

Jared picked primroses from around the the gnarled roots of an old beech tree by the mausoleum. Weak sunlight filtered through a few stubborn bronze leaves and reflected golden from the frosted branches. He could order orchids, roses and lilies from the florist, but they wouldn’t be what Miles would want. What meaning does cost have when you have been rich all your life?

 

He hesitated on the threshold of the mausoleum, holding the primroses delicately in his hand and then continued with resolve. Inside, the air was cool and still. It smelt of earth and churches, and Jared wondered how death’s scent failed to linger. Dim lighting gave an eerie glow to gray stone and he lit a candle, watching the wick flare then die back to flickering orange flame.

 

He scattered the flowers on Miles's coffin and leaned against the wall of the crypt’s alcove, feeling the chill of cold stone even through his hoodie. It made it real, grounded him.

 

“I figure you’re pissed with me, with what I did to your clothes and to myself. You don’t have the right. You deserved it. You left us, and I’m still angry about it, bro. It was supposed to be me and you against the world; death or glory together.”

 

Jared's fingers feathered over a marble inscription, ‘... _only child of…’_ “I don’t even get a mention. It’s okay. I was never a priority. I’m used to it.”

 

He paused, lost in memories for a few minutes then tapped his fingers over the marble, considering what the future might bring.

 

“Milly has a princess dress and Danneel has bought wide ribbon. We know what that means. It doesn’t diminish what you and I had, ‘cos y’know, we were only ever messing around, right?”

 

It had been their excuse at the start, a way to scratch an itch, a twin rebellion against Jared’s future as somebody’s property, but it had become something more. The twins had never defined it and never wanted to. Sometimes it had been confining, but at other times it hadn’t been enough and Jared would cling to Miles, begging him to go into rehab. or at least cut back on his parties, clubbing and whores.

 

Miles had never given up his lifestyle and before he had Milly, Jared had used his brother's parties to fuck his way around Miles’s acquaintances; a nameless ride in their inebriated haze. He had found it hilariously ironic when he convinced them to pay him for it. It had infuriated Miles, and when the house was cleared of friends and hangers-on, his brother's jealousy and frustration would inevitably give Jared what he really wanted – his undivided attention. Jared would be marked up with fingertip bruises and bites, and he wore them like a badge. His cherry red ass would be sore to sit on for days and he reveled in the pain. It was all the evidence he had needed that however fucked up he was, he was loved, desired and _needed_ by his equally fucked-up brother. It had given him a purpose to stay in his gilded cage.

 

Grief was a different sort of pain. It wormed into the very core of him. There was no sting or pride in it, only black weight and loneliness. He didn't know if the weight could ever be lifted, but maybe he didn't have to be lonely any more.

 

Jared gave a hollow laugh, “We both screwed around didn't we? Never thought I’d agree to settle down, but you always had the last word. So, here's the news; I'm getting a mother-in-law. We've only skyped but she seems cool. I'm allowed to tell mother-in-law jokes.”

 

There was no sarcastic reply, no ghostly whisper or gust of cold air. Jared twisted a strand of his hair around his finger, “Danneel is hot, Jensen is too, but we knew that, right? They’re quiet, like church mice, but not so terrible. You know what they say about the quiet ones? They're the kinkiest. Well, Jensen used to be and I have high hopes for Danneel. I would totally have fucked them before now, but I think that Jensen’s only in it for the sympathy fuck and that sucks. I miss you, Miles but the way you left me was a steaming pile of shit, you know that?”

 

His words echoed through thick silence. “So, I'm going to get married, I'm going to get laid, and I'm not going to hold back on anything, and I hope it makes your ghost-ass jealous.”

 

Jared huffed. He was alone, ranting into an empty space.

 

“Maybe I’ll come back and tell you how it worked out, but maybe you didn’t earn it.”

 

Jared turned away. He scrubbed tears from his lashes with the back of his hand and walked out of the mausoleum, into cold sunlight.

 

Julie McNiven was waiting for him when he got back to the main house. Jensen had told him that she would be coming to see him but he hadn’t been expecting a visit so early on a Sunday. They had met before, with Miles, and Jared doubted that she had anything to say that he wasn’t familiar with. Still, Danneel and Jensen were her clients and it was all about protecting their asses.

 

The document she brought with her imitated a legal matching contract, and she was careful to explain the details to him, but he had known the rules since he turned fifteen and his father had told him with a sneer what was expected of him.

 

“If you are discovered, it is best that your relationship with the Ackles stands up to scrutiny, in every way the same as a legal match. I have left in all clauses, including an obligation for the Ackles to discipline you in the event that you do not adequately co-operate in activities likely to result in conception.”

 

“In other words, they must punish me if I don’t bend over to be dicked on demand.”

 

“Crudely put, but yes. Fair discipline, for the purpose of this law, is generally accepted as restraint during sex, confinement to quarters, withholding clothing, and spanking, flogging, or similar, but punishment must not compromise fertility or pregnancy, and must not cause permanent damage.”

 

He shook his head, “Great,” he said, sarcastically.

 

“I don’t think you will have an issue with the Ackles, and they have offered to strike the clause from the contract.”

 

“What is your opinion?”

 

Jared scrutinized her expression as she answered him.

 

“In my professional experience, the clause should remain. It isn’t a State endorsed document, so no party is legally obliged to uphold it. It is not something that provides leverage for any of you unless you are discovered, and then it benefits all of you. I can’t see behind closed doors but I’m a reasonable judge of character and I don’t think that Mr. and Mrs. Ackles will use the wording to abuse you.” Her eyes slid from his gaze.

 

“But?” he asked.

 

“Previous cases have shown sympathy for an unregistered match where discipline has been applied to keep the breeder in their place.”

 

He snorted in disdain, “The courts condone abuse?”

 

“That would be rigorously denied. However, statistics are publicly available and ninety four percent of our judiciary are male, from a financially privileged background. They have the pick of young breeders from parents who wish to consolidate their social status. Such children are raised in a highly disciplined environment to be meek and obedient from an early age, something I am sure you can identify with. I am not saying that the system is right, only advising on the standards that are currently applied.”

 

He fought an urge to discredit her assumptions with a fiery rebuttal and replied instead with steady words which he hoped would pass as self confidence, “Okay, you can leave the clause in, but I want the wording changed.”

 

McNiven looked curious as she waited for him to expand on his request.

 

“I want it to be clear that no child can be witness to, or be involved in my discipline.”

 

Her expression softened, “I can do that.”

 

When they were done, and she had made the adjustments, he signed his name. The stylus felt small and cold in his hand and it was peculiar to write his name with a flourish. He couldn’t remember a time when it had ever been needed. McNiven was sympathetic and soft-spoken and he hated the way her fingers hovered over his, to pat his hand as if she really understood anything of the life that he was expected to lead. He endured it all, because he didn’t have any other choice, and none of it was her fault. “What happens now?” he asked.

 

“Now Jensen and Danneel will sign this too, and I will file it in my safe. You haven’t asked for anything that is a deal-breaker. It is the only agreement that I have advised the Ackles to obtain. Any other commitment that you make between yourselves is personal.” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “But I think it is sweet and considerate that they want something more.”

 

Just before she left, she asked about Mark Sheppard. Jared hadn’t been expecting that.

 

“What do you know about him?” she asked.

 

“Not much. He was friends with my father for years and after father died we didn’t hear from him. Then, when Miles started to become dependent on drugs, he was suddenly best friends with him. They hung out at work and in clubs but he didn’t come here. He was never invited.”

 

“Is there any reason to believe that you were promised to him at any time?”

 

Jared paled and every nerve thrummed. “No,” his voice shook as he spoke.

 

“You know I represent your best interests, don’t you Jared?”

 

She knew he was lying - Jared was sure of it, “Of course, but no. No reason to believe it,” he insisted.

 

She drummed her fingers and drew a whistling breath through her teeth, “Okay. Well, he met Danneel Ackles and he hinted strongly that you were promised to him by your father.”

 

He shrugged, “Oh.”

 

“Whatever! It wouldn’t have been a legal claim.” She gave him a knowing look before continuing, “I’ve talked to Aldis Hodge and he can make things difficult for Mr. Sheppard but he can’t hold him off forever. Your brother must have had a means to keep you safe, but it may not be something you are willing to share with me. If you have documents that you wish me to review then you have my contact details.”

 

He nodded mutely, unwilling to confirm or deny it.

 

The attorney left and Christian took her place, forced him to drink some juice, and laid out a suit on his bed. Jared pretended that he didn’t know why he had to wear a suit on a Sunday, and they joked about it, but his hands trembled with nerves.

 

Milly rushed in wearing a dress of gold and white lace which ballooned to the floor over sequin-sparkly boots. A tiara crowned her wayward blonde hair. She bounced around his room like an excited puppy but she looked like a princess, and it took his breath away.

 

“Wow! Look at you!”

 

“Danni helped me. It’s so pretty. Do you like it, daddy?”

 

“I love it, darling.” He lifted her up, still so light in his arms, and kissed her cheek. “It is the prettiest dress in the world and you are the prettiest girl.”

 

“It’s like Danni’s dress,” Milly let slip, and then looked wide-eyed at him, waiting for him to mention it.

 

Jared pretended not to hear. He snatched her up and hugged her tight. “Well, what shall we do this afternoon, with you in that dress?”

 

“You have to wear your nice gray suit with the red tie and come to dance with me and Mumps and Fred and Jensen and Danneel and Chris,” she drew a huge breath, “and Sam and Travis and my new Gramma.”

 

Jared grinned, “I’m not a good dancer,” he teased.

 

“You have to!” declared Milly, squirming in his hold.

 

He twirled a few steps with her and she laughed.

 

“Like this?” he asked.

 

“Whee! Yes, daddy.”

 

He set her back on the floor, “Let me get ready. I’ll be there soon.”

 

“Come now,” she insisted.

 

“I’ll be quick, but I have to style my hair.” He flicked his hair dramatically and posed. Milly giggled so hard she got the hiccups. “Off you go then,” he said.

 

This time she skipped away.

 

***

 

Jensen was somehow unsurprised that his mother had arrived early that morning She had marched into the chaos of the main reception room offering flowers and support and clutching her hat box.

 

Danneel had caved in easily to accept her help and Travis, Martha's co-conspirator had been quick to shepherd Milly into her capable care.

 

 

Now, she was dressed smartly in a pink and black suit and her gray-streaked hair was topped with a lace edged hat that befitted the mother of the bridegroom, and stand-in mother to the bride. She surveyed the large reception room, with some pride and Jensen with even more pride. He accepted her embrace and growled, “Don't!” half-heartedly when she smoothed a wayward spike of his hair.

 

“It's all perfect darling, and so is your family,” she reassured him.

 

It wasn’t much. Curtains were closed against telescopic camera lenses and some furniture had been rearranged. Pillar candles stood on a table at the far end of the room, forming an altar, and Sam had clustered floral displays around it. Chilled champagne rested in an ice-bucket, and a feast of finger food was beautifully presented around an impressive ice sculpture of a dragon.

 

With Milly away to get her daddy, Danneel joined Jensen. She was breathtaking in a short golden lace dress with matching shoes. Flowers were pinned in her hair.

 

She twirled for him, “What do you think?”

 

He grasped her around the waist and hugged her close, “It makes me want to take you to bed,” he whispered in her ear, “Do we have to wait?”

 

“I like the way your suit highlights your _ass_ -ets, and I want to see Jared in his. She licked her lips and squeezed his pert ass. “Both so pretty to unwrap.”

 

“Fuck!” Jensen groaned, “I hate you.”

 

“I know, darling,” Danneel retorted and untangled herself. “Now behave yourself.”

 

Milly came clattering in, sliding around the door, “He’s coming, he’s coming,” she announced, and ran to Danneel, “Where’s Fred?”

 

Danneel took her hand – so small and soft in hers – and squeezed it gently. “Travis went to get him,” she said.

 

Travis held the hamster gently and secured him in his ball, then let it loose to roll on the floor after Milly.

 

Mumps ambled over to Jensen sporting an enormous gold bow on his collar. He yawned noisily and sat by his side.

 

Christian checked the folded ribbon for a third time. There was the _clunk_ and _click, click_ of a silver lighter as he checked it was working.

 

This was it, Jensen thought, a new kind of life was only a handful of heartbeats away. It was going to tear apart the relationship he had established with Danneel, remodeling into something different, something heavy with responsibility, but it had potential for great benefits too. He pictured Jared's dimples and the way he peered through his tousled hair, like an eager puppy, then imagined more, much more of him, naked and laid out like a wedding feast for them. He mentally chastised himself and brought his thoughts back to the solemnity of the day. Danneel bit her lip beside him. Her eyes were bright and wide and her hand tugged at the hem of her dress. She looked terrified.

 

The enormity of it all struck him and it was as if somebody had sucked the air from the room. They were going to marry Jared, and they barely knew him.

 

“Danni, are you sure about this?” Jensen had to check.

 

She rolled her shoulders and dropped her fingers from her hem, breathing out deliberately slowly. “Of course.”

 

Martha, Sam and Travis settled on silk covered dining chairs, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Somebody turned the music system on and romantic piano music played but Jensen didn't recognize the tune. They hadn't thought about music and now he was sure that they should have made an effort to choose something meaningful, something that communicated their commitment to Jared, but it was too late to worry about it now.

 

Milly couldn’t keep still. She almost glowed with excitement, waiting for her daddy to arrive.

 

They heard Jared before they saw him, “Psst!”

 

Danneel and Jensen turned around.

 

“Surprise,” yelled Milly, then hiccuped, but her daddy only peered around the door and gestured to Jensen.

 

Jensen frowned. Fuck! What if they had misjudged and Jared didn’t want all this fuss? Worse - what if he wanted to back out entirely? He froze in place.

 

“Jensen!” Jared hissed, and waved him out to the hall.

 

Danni pushed him gently, “Go,” she mouthed.

 

Milly looked up at them both, worried.

 

Jensen went. He stopped abruptly as he turned the corner and saw Jared. His hair was softly styled and shined under the light. A tailored suit made him look somehow taller and broader and it hugged the firm contours of his body. Jared was smart, sexy and classy and Jensen had to remind himself to close his gaping mouth.

 

“I er, can’t tie this,” Jared said as he shoved a burgundy tie into Jensen’s hand. His cheeks flared almost as red as the tie, but his hair fell soft around his face, masking the flush.

 

“You want me to tie your tie?” Jensen asked incredulously.

 

Jared fidgeted, and looked through his hair at Jensen with his puppy eyes, “I never learned.”

 

Jensen released the breath he was holding with a slight chuckle, “I thought we’d scared you off.”

 

Jared bent his knees so that Jensen could brush the hair from his collar and loop the tie around his neck. He knotted it with a flourish and straightened it for Jared, struggling to ignore how warm and soft Jared’s skin felt when his fingertips brushed his neck, and how it made his pulse race.

 

“You look incredible,” he commented.

 

Jared straightened up and took a deep breath. “You’re pretty hot too. Thanks, man.”

 

“You ready?” Jensen asked.

 

“Yeah,” Jared nodded. They entered the room together, and Milly dashed to walk by their side, holding a basket of fragrant rose petals tightly in her hand.

 

***

 

 

Jared paused his step when he saw Danneel. She stood like a model, radiant in a gold dress which emphasized the curve of her breast and her shapely calves. He had never doubted his reluctant attraction to Jensen but the effect that Danneel had on him still shocked him.

 

***

 

It was a cliché, Danneel thought, but when she saw them together that day, she understood how you might be able to love two people at once. Perhaps it was even possible to love them more together, than apart. There was a unity to their entrance which wasn't just because they were in step and the color of their suits was coordinated. It was in their subtle looks, the way their fingertips grazed together and the nervous smiles they had for Danneel. It was the enthusiasm they both showed for Milly and her insistence that the family pets be present. They greeted everyone in the sparse gathering and when they finally reached Danneel their hands reached out to hers simultaneously.

 

Danneel stood on tiptoes to kiss Jared’s cheek. “Is this okay?” she whispered against his skin, “We can stop it.”

 

“We should do it. I was told that there would be dancing afterwards,” Jared joked, but Danneel could feel his tension in the pressure of his hands and the tap of his fingertips.

 

“There can be dancing,” confirmed Jensen with a weak smile.

 

Christian looked uncomfortable in a dark blue suit with his hair tied back in a short ponytail, and wire spectacles balanced on his nose. He ushered them to stand by the altar with him and scrutinized each of them in turn, giving eye-contact in an unspoken communication – _if you want to walk away, speak up now._ They remained silent, so he cleared his throat and began,

 

“There’s a long speech for ceremonies like this, generally spoken by a man of government...” He held up one hand and shook his head adamantly, “But right here, right now, there is no State in the room; only two families doing their best, coming together in the hope of doing better. I personally think that it is a more admirable goal than our government aspires to. So, this isn’t an occasion for family negotiations or social engineering. There won't be those fancy words or a pile of paperwork to complete.”

 

Christian dug a hand into his pocket and retrieved his silver lighter. He held it to the candles speaking as they lit with a fizz and the orange flames reached up and grew strong, “I give you light in representation of hope.”

 

Mumps ruined the moment by flopping on the floor by Christian. He scratched the bow around his neck and yawned with a loud whine. Milly clapped and hiccuped and Jared held her hand and tried not to laugh.

 

Jensen shuffled his feet and retrieved, from his pocket, index cards on which he had written prompts for a declaration of commitment. He felt awkward and suddenly unsure of himself. Anything he could say seemed trite and inadequate. He turned to speak to Jared, but instead dropped to one knee in front of Milly.

 

He spoke clearly and sincerely, “Milly, Danneel and I would very much like to marry your father. We want to be a family, and care for you both. Would you like that?" "

 

Her daddy squeezed her hand reassuringly and she brought her basket up to her face to suck her other thumb into her mouth. She considered the question and looked up at Jared for his approval. He nodded and smiled and she copied him, nodding wide-eyed at Jensen.

 

“We promise to always listen to you and to your daddy and agree things together. We may not always want the same things but we will work together to make sure you are happy. You will always be important to us, and we promise to play with you, protect you and teach you new and interesting things.”

 

“Danneel crouched by her side. Milly pulled away from Jared’s hold and rushed into her circling arms. “And we will make sure you have everything you need,” she kissed the top of Milly’s head, “including pretty clothes and plenty of hugs.”

 

Milly hiccuped again as she asked, “Can we dance now?”

 

“Soon,” promised Jensen, “If you’re good and let us finish our words with the ribbon, like we told you.”

 

She was used to being the center of attention so Jared distracted her, “Have you got petals to throw when we’re finished?”

 

“Yes.” Her brow furrowed and she fell silent, fiddling with the lace on her dress and concentrating on getting her task right. Her hiccups continued. Mumps snored.

 

Jared was finding it increasingly difficult not to laugh. He scraped his hand over his face forcing a more serious expression as Jensen and Danneel straightened up, but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes. “We better be quick,” he advised.

 

Jensen couldn’t hide his chuckle. He threw his prompt cards over his shoulder. They pattered lightly to the floor as he extended his hand to Jared, palm up. Danneel rested her hand in Jensen’s and they faced him together,

 

“Jared, Danneel and I offer our hands to you in a gesture of commitment; to join with you in a relationship of equals, with communication, respect and care. We hope for lasting love and procreation but resolve to be dedicated to our family, as it stands right now.” Jensen scratched the back of his neck. It was no longer the fancy speech he had practised, but he meant every word. “This doesn’t have to be forever, and if, at any time, you feel you can no longer continue, then there is no obligation to. Milly will always be your daughter and we will always do what is best for her. So, er,” he gestured to their extended hands.

 

Danneel took over, “What Jensen is asking, is if you, Jared, will join hands with us, to bind our lives and families together, not in subservience, fear, or duty, but in mutual respect and love.”

 

The room became still except for the flicker of candlelight. Even Milly was silent.

 

Jared’s softly spoken answer seemed to take an age. He extended his right arm, and his hand dwarfed Danneel’s as he curled his fingers around theirs. His answer was serious, “I will.”

 

Everybody waited for Jared to say more but he gestured for Christian to bring the length of silk ribbon that Danneel had bought.

 

The ribbon was soft on Jared’s wrist. It felt symbolic as it covered scars, recent and old, and continued to wrap gently around Danneel and Jensen’s hands, binding them all together.

 

Christian tied a loose bow before pouring a single glass of champagne. They each took a sip in turn.

 

“Because a family bound together, share together,” muttered Danneel.

 

“And a family who share together, stay together,” Jared completed the saying.

 

“A new era in the house,” announced Christian, “May life be kind to the Ackles family.” He raised the champagne glass in a toast.

 

Jensen nudged Milly, “Now!” he prompted.

 

Milly enthusiastically tossed her rose petals upwards; a bright red confetti that fluttered and twisted, scattering over them to lie like bloodstains on the wide white silk of the binding ribbon. There was the flash of a camera to capture the moment before Travis insisted that they pose for a few more photographs with the ribbon still tied. After they had smiled and posed the ribbon was untied, carefully folded, and presented to Jared. The petals drifted to the floor, becoming still again, but their scent still infused the air.

 

Martha, Julie and Travis stood and clapped, with congratulations on their lips. Mumps yipped in surprise, stirring from his rest, and somewhere in the room Fred’s ball banged against a chair leg.

 

Milly tugged on her daddy’s pants, “Daddy, daddy. Dance daddy?” She opened her arms for his embrace, and that was how the first dance of their new life  together came to be a Disney number.

 

The food was delicious, as it always was. They danced some more and Danneel fit just right against Jared's body with her head snug under his chin while Jensen was perfectly in step with Jared, leading for him to follow. Jared wouldn't let Martha refuse him, and she danced with the trained grace of a breeder. He stepped on her foot and she had the tact that accompanied it, brushing off his apologies with a smile. He was poor company by comparison and he hoped that Jensen wouldn't judge him by his mother's capabilities.

 

 

When they had all taken a turn at dancing and Milly was exhausted and sulking on a sofa, they turned the music off. There was no gathering for speeches and no honeymoon to rush away for.

 

Martha embraced Jared and whispered something private that made him smile. She made even Travis blush as she dispensed some frank advice on sexual honesty to the adults in the room. She told Jensen and Danneel that she was proud of them, and ignored Jared's pleas to not give Milly a big bag of candy before she went home, “ _Because spoiling the child is a necessary function of being a grandparent, m'dear.”_

 

As she prepared to pull away, up the sweeping drive she took Jensen's hand, “I don’t know how I can lecture you on honesty when your father and I didn’t share everything about our lives. I should have had the courage to tell you about our politics, but I’m a coward. I was afraid that you would judge us poorly, or try to stop me. I should have known you better than that. The State would have you believe that you are alone in your predicament, but the truth is far from it. You are one family of many, doing the right thing in wrong times.” She handed him a piece of folded paper, “If anything goes wrong, and you can get Milly away, then use this. They can only help the children, but to people like us, that is everything, right son?”

 

Martha put the car into gear and the wheels kicked gravel as she sped away. Jensen waited for the gates to close and when the purr of her car receded he opened the paper. Written on it was written a telephone number and a single code word.

 

***

 

Chris offered to take Milly to visit his sister but Jared insisted that if the day was about family, then she should stay at home. It was a strange, ordinary evening after that, with Milly racing around in her long dress and boots, littering toys wherever she went. When Milly became engrossed in her doll's house on the other side of the huge room, Danni decided to work on some financial projections for the coffee shop. There were no chores or tasks for Jensen and he was bored. He read the newspaper from cover to cover, but it was no fun without their regular Sunday routine.

 

Jared came to sit next to him. The sofa was wide and generous but he sat flush to Jensen’s side as if seeking warmth, like a cat. He smelt sweet-spicy and slightly sweaty and his skin glowed damp with perspiration at his neck where his tie was loosened and his shirt splayed open. It felt oddly natural to be so close and Jensen relaxed into it, leaning subtly into Jared's chest to snatch the Ken doll he had picked off the floor.

 

Jared pretended to be outraged.“Dude! That’s my toy!”

 

“Ah, ah, family shares everything,” declared Jensen. He set the doll’s clothes straight and absent-mindedly played with its plastic limbs making it do the splits.

 

“What Ken lacks in biology, he makes up for in athleticism,” Jared commented with a dirty laugh.

 

Jensen tried to bend Ken’s head to his groin but it was impossible, “Well let’s hope he impresses Barbie, because he can’t suck his own non-dick.”

 

They both giggled.

 

“What do you do all day?” Jensen asked Jared.

 

Jared gave him a withering look, “I have a four year old. What do you think I do?”

 

“The garden is perfect, we don’t have to clear the dishes or do the laundry. You don’t work, Milly and Barbie are happy together. What do you do, when it’s like this?”

 

“Hey. I do our laundry, and nobody else cleans our apartment. It’s not like we can let the outside contractors do it. I was brought up to be a breeder. I learned to do housework.”

 

“It must be quiet sometimes.”

 

“Not so much with Miles.” Jared looked wistful. “When he was away, I read, I swam, I worked out, and I learned everything I could, to teach to Milly.”

 

It still sounded empty to Jensen.

 

“What do you normally do on a Sunday? I don’t see you around much.” Jared asked Jensen.

 

Jensen glanced across the room, to ensure he was still out of Milly’s earshot, “Generally, we, uh, stay in bed and have some fun quality time.” He ran his fingers through his hair. It was stupid to be embarrassed with Jared, who was supposed to be an equal sexual partner, but he was.

 

Danneel looked up from her screen, as if sensing she was being talked about, “What?” she mouthed.

 

“Nothing,” Jensen replied and she went back to her work.

 

“Sometimes, I watch porn, and I wash my own sheets afterwards,” offered Jared. His lips curled up with the tease. His amusement was infectious.

 

“Really? You’ll have to describe the details…,”

 

Jared raised his eyebrows in surprise.

 

Jensen continued, “Do you use biological or non-biological detergent, and what spin cycle do you set the washer to?”

 

They broke into childish laughter together and Danneel looked up at them, and shook her head fondly.

 

Jared snatched Ken back from Jensen and set it down beside him. “If you want to pass some time you could kiss me.”

 

And, oh, Jensen hadn’t been expecting that.

 

“But, Milly…Danni…,”

 

Jared shouted across the room, “Hey, Danneel, can I kiss our husband?”

 

She shrugged as she replied, “Of course.”

 

“Milly…,”

 

“Needs to see some natural affection between her parents,” insisted Jared. He curled a hand around the back of Jensen’s neck, and stroked softly, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine, yet a watchful gaze and a hint of a frown belied his confident actions.

 

It was the only prompt Jensen needed to tilt his head up. _Yes, I want this too._ His own hands strayed to grab Jared’s head, twist his fingers into the silk of his hair and guide him so that their lips could meet, warm and tentative at first, then gaining in confidence, a firm slide and demand for entrance. Their eyes met, and the worry in Jared’s expression faded, his pupils darkened and his irises seemed lighter around the black of them, more gold than green or hazel. Jensen thought he could lose himself in those eyes.

***

 

Jared didn’t know what he was expecting from their kiss, but it wasn’t the focus and obvious care that Jensen responded with. Jensen tasted good too, with no taint of alcohol, tobacco or drugs. The sensation of skin on skin, and the twist of a tongue in his mouth, was nothing new to Jared but this felt different. It was aware, and like he mattered more than anyone or any addiction. It was something he hadn’t even known he was missing. When the kiss ended with a satisfied sigh, he dived straight in for more, and Jensen didn’t disappoint. There was nothing fierce about the way he kissed. Sweet licks into his mouth were met with slight suction, and the fingers that curled into his hair caressed and stroked rather than tugging. Maybe this was what a first date should be like.

 

“Daddy’s kissing Jensen! Daddy’s kissing Jensen!” Milly jumped up and down, staring at them.

 

Jared broke off with a jolt and sat upright. He licked his lips, savoring the flavor of Jensen on them.

 

Danni cleared her throat, “They sure are,” she grinned.

 

“Daddy loves Jensen, ‘cos that’s what daddies do when they love,” Milly added, looking proud to know such grown up things.

 

There was a beat of silence before Jared replied, “And daddy is going to kiss Danneel too. That is why we tied the ribbon this morning, my Milly Princess.”

 

Milly moved a toy swing in the yard of her doll’s house, “When I grow up I won’t tie a ribbon, ‘cos kissing is ‘sgusting.” She was matter-of-fact and Jared didn’t correct her.

 

“Oh, honey,” Danneel cooed, “If only you could stay this way forever.”

 

Milly pursed her lips and changed the subject, “Baby needs milk.” She picked up a tiny crib and continued playing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding night. Need I say more?

 

 

“Scoot over,” Danneel plopped herself down by Jensen’s side.

 

“Ssh,” Jensen pointed at the television.

 

She stole a potato chip from his packet and crunched it loudly. “Milly’s asleep. Jared says he’ll be down soon.

 

“It’s the big reveal,” moaned Jensen.

 

She grabbed the remote and clicked the television off, “You never watch cop shows, so why are you hiding in the snug watching Castle on our wedding night?”

 

“Technically it’s about a writer...,”

“Ah, ah, no.” She cut off his excuses and waited. Jensen didn’t find it easy to talk about his emotions but she could usually wheedle it from him.

 

“Is this about the kiss? It was hot. I’m not jealous.”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“It’s everything. Jared is going through with this. You are great together. _We are great together_ and now you’re acting like its some hardship for you.”

 

“Don’t you think it’s cold?”

 

“Cold? We have heating.”

 

“No. It’s heartless. Jared is doing it because he has to and so are we. We barely know him and everything about it is so…engineered.”

 

“Okay, you and Jared click, anyone can see it. The kiss earlier – that was not engineered, and the feelings I have aren’t engineered. You’ve had one night stands that didn’t bother you. You couldn’t even remember what _they_ looked like in the morning. Jared is hot, he wants to, and we like him. How is it wrong?”

 

Jensen let out something between a growl and a whimper, “Well it’s all right for you. You don’t have to _do_ anything.”

 

“Excuse me?” She crossed her arms and glared at him, offended and exasperated.

 

“Not like that!” He spread his hands in apology and turned pleading eyes on her, “That didn’t come out how I meant.”

 

She tapped her foot impatiently and then suddenly she thought she understood. She bit back a laugh.

 

“You’ve got stage fright!”

 

He spread his hands in a gesture of frustration. “Well, what if I can’t? I’m the only one who _has_ to perform.”

 

She stood and straddled his lap, settled on his thighs and grabbed a handful of his short hair. “Ssh!” She dipped down and pressed her lips against his, dominant and demanding. He opened up for her and she kissed him, tasting everything that Jared had tasted earlier, but with a confidence and knowledge that had her plundering his mouth while she ground down against his groin. He whimpered and matched the rhythm. Red hair tickled his nose her lacy dress scraped against his face. He let his fingers skate over her skin, searching out the pressure points that he knew so well. Her body melted into his, comfortable against his familiar shape, and she came up for air with a suck of his bottom lip and a series of kisses from his jaw down to his Adam’s apple.

 

There was a flush rising in his cheeks. “Stop thinking with your upstairs brain,” she grinned. “Besides, nobody has to do anything today, but it might be fun to play.”

 

“I’m good to watch.” Jared’s comment came from behind them, and they jumped.

 

“Should I have knocked?” he asked.

 

“Not at all.” Danneel’s gaze raked over Jared’s body. He had showered and dressed in cotton PJ trousers but his chest was bare and his hair tousled damp around his face. He worked out, that much had always been obvious, but the reality was better than she had imagined. Miles of toned, golden skin contrasted with a few dark moles, and while a lengthy scar marred his stomach, it didn’t detract from the abs above it. He held his arms awkwardly around his body, where gauze hid recent injuries from her view but there were tell-tale lines as far as his shoulder, stacked straight in purple, pink and silver. She wanted to erase them, imagined licking them clean off and wondered how he would taste. She unconsciously licked her lips.

 

Jensen shifted beneath her, and his tongue poked out to swipe his own lips. His u-turn was instant and his eyes were wide as he joined Danneel in admiring the view.  “You can join us if you like,” his voice rasped a little.

 

Jared’s reply was smooth and deep. “I like.” He walked with an exaggerated sway of his hips until he was behind Danneel and his hands rested on her shoulders, his fingers sliding under the fabric of her dress to smooth the curve of them. His moves were calculated to be sexy and Danneel had no doubt he’d used them before.

 

“You kept the dress on, it looks fantastic on you,” Jared commented, tracing a fingertip down the line of her zipper where it hugged her spine.

 

It gave her goosebumps.

 

“Of course I wore it. Do you know how much it cost? I am not one of those women who would only wear something once for a dinner date,” Danneel joked.

 

“You could, but I’m glad you didn’t because you fill it perfectly.” Jared unclipped the pearl button above the zip. He bent his head to nuzzle her neck, “And yet I’m betting that Jensen wants to me to undress you,” his breath was hot on her ear, “I know I want to.”

 

***

There was an eighteen carat gold pen on the games table and a notebook encased in fine leather. It had been the plan, Jared thought to, to make lists, talk kinks, decide on a time and a place and positions. Words could wait when Jared had walked in on a private show that made his pulse drum and his blood sing? What were words when he hadn’t had touch and breath and heat for so long?

 

He met Jensen’s gaze as Danneel’s zipper opened to reveal flawless flesh. Maybe Jared had wanted to see a spark of envy or to provoke some discomfort but Jensen stared back with confident expectation, eager for him to continue. Jared unclasped Danneel’s bra with steady fingers and smoothed the straps over her shoulders with her dress, exposing the neat swell of her breasts tantalizing slowly.  She rocked back on Jensen’s thighs, to rest her head against his stomach, and her hair was warm and soft against his skin. He  reached around her to cup her tits in his hands, letting his thumbs smooth over her nipples offering them up to Jensen’s view. Danneel gasped, and he couldn’t see her face but he saw the moment when Jensen’s attention snapped from him to her.

 

Jared crowded up against her back, to lean forward over her head, letting the growing bulge in his pants press against her. He lifted his right hand to take Jensen’s hand and place it with his on the swell of Danneel’s tit, and then kissed him from his forehead, down his nose and met his mouth to claim a kiss that was deep and lingering.

 

Danneel rocked between them while her slender fingers unbuttoned Jensen’s shirt. He mmphed and moaned as the sleeves got  stuck awkwardly on his wrists for a moment, yet his lips continued to mash against Jared’s.

 

It wasn’t a comfortable way to kiss. Jared broke off, stood up and licked his lips. Danneel’s mouth took his place on Jensen’s almost immediately and the passion between them was naturally effortless. Jensen reached a hand to Jared, to pull him onto the couch by his side, but Jared resisted. He folded himself to his knees beside them and watched, and as they lost themselves in each other he wondered how he would ever fit in. He reached out to touch the soft hair of Jensen’s bare chest, startling Jensen into open-eyed shock for a moment and Jared pulled away, with bitten lip and apologies.

 

Jensen apologized too, “Sorry, come back.”

 

He didn’t, preferring instead to explore the curves of Danneel’s body. She shuffled her short dress onto her midriff and he bunched it in large hands and quickly eased it up back up over her tits and her head and flung it to the floor, revealing so much more of her flesh. Her ass was round and satisfying in sleek silk panties and her hips were full and contoured in a way that no man’s were, not even his own.

 

Jared took the opportunity to admire her. It seemed an eternity since he had been with a woman, and it had only happened twice. He didn’t know what his sexuality was exactly. He’d  never had options. He was a man with a woman’s purpose, which made him hardly a man at all, and barely a person. He liked to be fucked, and sometimes he wondered if that was because it was expected. It didn’t prevent him from admiring women and he enjoyed sex with them but considering the overwhelming desire he felt for Jensen to turn his focus on him, to strip him, bend him over and make him his bitch it was unlikely that he was straight. Yeah. It was confusing.

 

Before long, both Jensen and Danneel had shed all their clothes. Jared looked on in fascination, comparing Danneel’s neatly shaved mound and Jensen’s treasure trail, Danneel’s supple, clear skin and the way that Jensen’s freckles seemed to dance over his pale skin. Jared’s hand pushed down his pants, strayed to his own cock, and he stroked it slowly and evenly. He let the sensation wash over him, but there was no urgency.

 

***

 

Jensen reminded himself to slow down. He’d let himself get carried away but now Jared was a voyeur, on his knees beside them and that hadn’t been the plan. It looked as if Jared was in some sort of trance, not the same eager participant from ten minutes before. So far they’d hardly spoken a word, let their bodies do the communicating, but this was one time when words were needed.

 

“Are you okay? Do you want to take this somewhere else?” Jensen asked Jared.

 

Jared shook himself out of his haze, “No. I’m good.”

 

“You’re more than good, you’re mighty fine,” purred Danneel, tracing a manicured nail down the dip of Jared’s throat.

 

“What do you want? I mean how do you want this to go? How do you normally do this?” Jensen asked.

 

Jared’s hand fell away from his dick, and _what a proportional dick it was,_ Jensen couldn’t help admiring it.

 

“I’m not fragile. I, erm, prepped already. This is em, not really normal…,” Jared scratched his nose, then shrugged, “But, before, if it wasn’t Miles it was easier to pretend to be a whore and then nobody was too shy to bang me like they meant it. I like to be manhandled. You can make me feel it.”  He winked lewdly at Jensen, “If you think you’re man enough, or maybe Danni can do that for you?”

 

If Jensen were thinking with his upstairs brain at all, he would wonder how fucked up Jared’s choices were, but his cock was straining at attention and his only intelligent consideration was whether any of the furniture was a convenient height to bend Jared over.

 

He may have said the last thought out loud.

 

“Jesus!” Jared and Danneel growled as one.

 

Danneel hooked a leg up and over Jensen’s thighs, to turn and sit facing out, toward Jared. Even kneeling he was almost as tall as them, seated the way that they were. She grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged his mouth to hers. He didn’t resist, closed his eyes and sighed his appreciation as she kissed him. Jared’s fingers roamed greedily over her body while she wrapped dainty, but not tentative fingers around the length of his dick. Jensen wondered why he wasn’t in a jealous rage, yelling for them to stop, but he wanted to see every detail, the way their skin glistened with sweat, and spittle bubbled around their mouths. He breathed in the smell of their arousal and he tensed his thigh for Danni to ride it, coating his skin with her slick juices.

 

Jensen couldn’t hold on for much longer. His cock nudged Danni’s back each time she slid back into him.

 

“ Back of the couch,” he suggested, then added “Now!

 

He wasn’t expecting Danni to move first, but she slid from Jensen’s lap, leaving him suddenly cold, and eased Jared from his knees. She rubbed soothing circles on his back as he curled his body over the stiff leather and she roughly pulled his pants down to reveal his bare ass, and full, heavy balls. It was a delicious scene.

 

Jensen had manners, he didn’t have to rush, and the back of Jared’s neck and the arc of his spine were irresistible. He peppered light kisses on Jared’s skin and his tongue followed. He explored the dip of his hip bones and worshipped his firm ass cheeks, easing them apart and admiring the view within.

 

Jared’s furled hole was shiny with lube Jensen slipped two fingers easily in and out, seeking internal heat, scissoring and stretching further.

 

Jared breathed heavily, “Hurry up,” he complained, “Do it!”

 

Jensen braced, and his cock circled the rim of Jared’s hole. Jared swore and Danneel scolded Jensen for being a jerk. He pushed in with gentle pressure at first, and Jared pushed back, eager to be filled.

 

Muscles contracted tight around Jensen’s cock, it was fucking perfect. “So fucking good!” Arousal peaked and he stilled, unwilling to shoot his load like a teenager.

 

“Nngh, move,” demanded Jared.

 

“Bossy,” laughed Jensen and swatted Jared’s ass cheek with an open palm that landed with a loud ‘slap’.

 

He paused, worried that he had gone too far, but Jared laughed, “Kinky,” he said, and pushed back again, willing Jensen to thrust hard, “I don’t break.”

 

Danneel climbed on the sofa, a prime seat to watch. She sought eye contact with them before she fucked down on her own fingers, and then offered them up, slick with her juices, to lap clean.

 

Jensen gripped Jared’s hips and thrust deep.

 

Jared hitched his breath, breathed out slowly and then wiggled his hips as he moaned his approval. “Mm, yeah, so big for me.”

 

Jensen started a steady slip and slide, burying his cock deep and tight so his balls slapped against Jared’s ass and the sofa creaked under the pressure. Jared was solid and shiny with sweat under him, the heat of his channel seemed to envelop and welcome his cock and it wasn't awkward. Their bodies moved together like they had always been together. Jensen was wanted to come, his balls needed a release, but he wanted it to last forever too. A string of enthusiastic expletives dropped from Jared’s lips spurred him on.  

 

Danneel’s tits swayed and bounced as she chased her own orgasm, her hand pressed eagerly into her cunt, and Jared finally quieted and watched her, silent except for the expulsion of his breath and a throaty whine as he was impaled in a different rhythm on Jensen’s dick. His wet, soft mouth followed her tits, latched on and sucked a nipple into his mouth, let it slide out and then sucked the other, lighting a thrill through her every time.

 

Jensen reached around to jack Jared’s cock as they rutted together. It was a satisfying weight in his hand and the vein pulsed under his fingertip.

 

It was Danneel who came first. Rosy-red and breathing heavily, she flopped into the cushions of the sofa. Her glazed eyes still followed Jensen and Jared, and Jared obscenely sucked her fingers clean.

 

That was all it took for to bring Jensen to the edge, one final thrust and there it was, His orgasm was intense. His come shot deep, and he was at the same time deliriously happy, physically exhausted and, perhaps in some small corner of his mind terrified at the prospect of fatherhood.

 

He barely registered Jared crying out and the globs of come that slid down the leather upholstery, but Jared’s cock softened in his hand, and Jared himself was boneless putty over the back of the couch making a satisfied, “Hmming,” noise.  

 

After, there were lips on lips, soft touches and reassurance, and it was difficult to separate from the tangle of limbs that they landed in, so they cuddled naked and sated on the couch.

 

They woke in the night, sticky with cooled sweat, and Jared made excuses to return to the bed in his apartment. Jensen and Danneel didn’t have the words to stop him. They watched him scoop up his clothes and leave without offering any argument. The empty notepad on the games table seemed to mock them as they dragged themselves wearily up to their own bed, brought from their small apartment to this grand house. There had been no discussion, no lists of preferences or agreements. A sense of melancholy came with the chill night air and the understanding that they were married to a man who was still a mystery to them. _But damn, the sex was hot._

 

Between crisp sheets, Danneel’s body tingled with the memory, she stroked the hair on Jensen’s chest and tweaked a nipple. “I can’t sleep, d’ya wanna go again?” she purred.

 

Jensen turned to face her, “Mm, yeah!”

 

***

 

“Did we fuck up?” Danneel asked Jensen, in the morning.

 

Jensen rolled over in their bed and buried his head under a pillow. His answer was muffled, “I think we fucked up.”

 

Danneel continued the conversation after her shower. “Did he mean what he said about pretending to be a hooker?”

 

“He’s not shy about sex,” Jensen said through the minty buzz of his toothbrush.

 

“A little unhealthy to be without boundaries,” she mused, “The stuff about his brother?”

 

“Most likely true, let’s not dwell on it.”

 

It was awkward, she decided, but surely not unusual. Breeder marriages were generally decided by database, and who knew what sort of sexual experience anybody had before the formal ceremony? Others coped. So would they. They _would_ make lists, have safeguards, and work out a new sleeping arrangement.

 

Jared didn’t join them for breakfast, not that he usually did, and of course it was yet another thing that they hadn’t discussed. Christian threatened to haul Jared’s ass to the kitchen to share the fresh fruit muesli, and spend the morning with them but Jensen insisted that Jared be allowed to rest. Jensen would check in with his office online, and Danneel could complete the rosters for their coffee shop.

 

***

 

The house was too big. The house was always too big, and Danneel was too proud to ask Chris where things were kept _yet again_. She turned left and was relieved to see the door to the office where they had first been invited to the reading of the will by Aldis Hodge. There wasn’t a computer at the coffee shop, so she clutched a work roster in her hand and hoped that a fax machine wasn’t so old fashioned that Miles didn’t have one.

 

She turned the door handle and a whirring sound from within made her jump. She stopped and listened. There was the sound of paper being shuffled and then the whirring started up again. She pushed the door slowly and peeked curiously around it. There was a messy pile of paperwork stacked on the desk and filing cabinets with open drawers haphazardly spilled their contents. At the center of the chaos Jared stood feeding pages into a shredder.  

 

He startled when he noticed her, and his immediate wide-eyed horror was unmistakable, but his recovery was quick. He let out a breath, scraped a hand through his hair and grinned, a little too bright, “Hey,” he greeted her.

 

“Hey. You’re busy.”

 

Jared dropped more pages between the teeth of the shredder, emptying the file he was holding. “It’s Monday. I thought you’d be working.”

 

She touched his shoulder lightly. “Jared, we just got married so we organized cover for a few days. I was looking for a fax machine, to send Osric the new roster.”

 

“Oh,” he blushed, “I didn’t think you’d do that. Its not like its _real_ , y’know.”

 

His words were oddly hurtful and she felt silly for caring, because he hadn’t said anything wrong.

 

He pointed to a store cupboard by the window. “There’s a fax machine in there. It probably still works. You’ll have to plug it in.”

 

“Right,” She found the old machine, dusted it off and placed it on the floor by the telephone point.

 

“Here, I’ll do it,” Jared said helpfully.

 

She let him. He bent down and she admired the view of his ass, in perfectly fitting jeans, then glanced around at the state of the office. “What are you doing in here?” she asked.

 

“Um,” his eyes widened. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I thought it was time. Miles filed everything. Most of it will never be needed. McNiven told me to look for names of all the staff who used to work for my father, so I started to look, but there was so much crap. I wanted to be busy and once I started, well, here I am.”

 

It sounded reasonable. “And we were thinking that you’d want to bask in the afterglow with us.”

 

Jared had the tact to look apologetic, “Oh. It was fun wasn’t it? We should probably do that again. Well, I guess we have to.”

 

Danneel frowned, “Nobody has to.”

 

“No, but…” he looked at her, “I should stop digging this hole shouldn’t I?”

 

She nodded, “We could get together. I thought that we could choose a new bedroom; a fresh start for us.”

 

“Milly and I like our apartment. There’s a passage and a small wall space. It’s safer.”

 

“A compromise,” she suggested, “You can’t hide all the time.”

 

He seemed to think about it, “I’m willing to discuss it.”

 

“Good. Did you find the list of employees that you were looking for?”

 

“Yeah, there was a personnel section.”

 

He was being truthful. The drawer marked ‘personnel’ was obvious, which made her wonder why so many others stood open and ransacked.  “We could fax it to McNiven. It would get there faster.”

 

“May as well. I’ll put things back here and do it.” The machine beeped confirmation that Danneel’s roster had been sent. Jared handed it back to her.

 

“Do you want any help with this?” Danneel waved her hand at the mess.

 

“No. It’s cathartic. We’ll do lunch though. Somewhere exotic, like the kitchen,” he laughed.

 

“We’ll hold you to that,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.


	12. Chapter 12

If the mountain wouldn’t come to Muhammad, then Muhammad would have to go to the mountain. On Wednesday morning Jensen and Danneel knocked at the white door of Jared’s apartment at eight in the morning with an offering of fresh ground coffee and pastries.

 

Jared opened his door a fraction and peered around it with sleep mussed hair and a wary expression. He looked rumpled in an old tee shirt and his bare feet peeked from well-worn jeans. “Hi,” he said with a frown.

 

Jensen lifted the bags for him to see. “We thought we could have breakfast together and the other night you said you felt safer here, sooo...”

 

“Here we are,” finished Danneel.

 

Jared didn’t open the door any further, he ran a hand through his hair nervously, “We can’t do anything sexy, y’know. I have to look after Milly, we have activities, she needs structure.”

 

Jensen held his hand up, “Woah, that’s why we thought breakfast. A family breakfast, because we should spend some time doing ordinary stuff together.”

 

“If that’s okay with you,” added Danneel, “The coffee is the new blend at our shop. We thought you might like to try it.”

 

“Oh, right.” Jared reluctantly opened the door wide and stepped aside for them to enter. He blushed and looked at the floor, “We don’t do anything special. Um, we like to eat it watching TV. It’s kind of common but Milly likes it.”

 

Jensen grinned, “Oh my god, bring it on. Breakfast and cartoons is the best.”

 

“Sounds good,” reassured Danneel.

 

Jared relaxed and there was the hint of a smile.

 

The clunk of a toaster popping was closely followed by the sound of Milly clapping and yelling, “They’re done, Daddy! Daddee!”

 

They followed him into his modest kitchenette where Milly perched on a stool drinking orange juice and watching over a toaster. Beside it stood a catering size carton of Pop Tarts while a sweet-sickly smell gave away the presence of the ones in the toaster slots.  

 

“Holy shit! You have Pop Tarts!” Jensen exclaimed, grabbing the large carton and holding it above his head, dodging Jared.

 

Jared giggled, and wrestled it from him, “Uh-no! Ssh! No, no. Sshh!”

 

“How come you get Pop Tarts?” complained Danni, “I could kill for one, but Chris would do his nut.”

 

Jared hid them behind his back, urging Milly to grab them and run away with them.“No Pop Tarts here,” he declared. Milly jumped up and down, squealed and giggled.

 

“Then you won’t mind me taking what’s in the toaster,” teased Jensen. They all rushed toward it with a laugh, but Jared got there first and juggled two in his hand, blowing on his fingers with the burn. “Milly’s,” he said seriously, through the laughter. He grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl, sliced it onto the plate with them and gave it to his daughter, “See, I’m not a terrible daddy, she gets fruit too.”

 

“Does Christian know?” wondered Jensen.

 

“Travis brings them,” grinned Jared.

 

“If you don’t toast us some, we’ll tell on you,” threatened Danneel.

 

“You low down dirty blackmailer,” joked Jared, but he grabbed a handful and set to cooking them.

 

They eventually settled on the floor of the small living room, leaning against the sofa where Jared and Milly sat,  their plates balanced on their knees, and cups of coffee  by their side. The television played some toddler show with bright costumes and loud tunes. It somehow felt more like home than anything had since the day they moved into Helix House.

 

It turned out that there was a routine; breakfast, walk Mumps in the garden, then lessons; kindergarten stuff with numbers and letters. After lunch was messy play. It was easy to lose themselves with Milly in pots of bright finger paints. Jared hovered behind them, biting back sarcastic advice and giving the occasional rolled eyes or pointed sigh. After a time Milly couldn’t help her yawns and she started to lose interest. It was then that Danneel suggested that she get cleaned up while the adults put the paints away and Jared couldn’t help his annoyance. He elbowed Danneel out of the way to contradict her.

 

“How will Milly learn like that?”

 

Milly started to walk away and he pulled her back by her hand, “Milly it’s tidy-up-time,” he said firmly.

 

“But she said…” Milly stamped her foot.

 

“She was wrong, and _she_ has a name, Milly.”

 

“I wan’ go,” Milly wailed.

 

Jared glared at Danneel and Jensen tried to step in, “It was just this once, maybe we could…”

 

“See!” challenged Milly.

 

“We have a system, Princess. We can show Danneel and Jensen how fast we can clean up,” Jared tried to convince her.

 

Milly’s shoulders heaved and she started to cry in loud wails punctuated by long shuddering breaths, “I like them better!”

 

Jared’s cheeks colored. He pointed a finger to the door and spoke, quiet but tense, to Jensen and Danneel. “We’ve been managing perfectly well together until now. Get out!”

 

Milly threw herself to the floor dramatically, “I hate you, Daddy!”

 

“Milly, go and sit on the naughty seat until you’re ready to apologize and help me.”

 

“You don’t have to…” Jensen declared, looking down at the crying mess who was their daughter, “She’s…”

 

“Having a tantrum, and you’re not helping.” Jared picked Milly up and carried her to a small plastic seat. Milly fought him, but eventually sat, with her head bowed, refusing to look at her daddy.

 

Jensen spread his hands in surrender, “Jared…”

 

“It’s not the time. Go!” He was immovable.

 

“Danneel pressed her hand to the small of Jensen’s back. “He’s right. C’mon.”

 

***

Jared’s cheeks were flushed again when he came to find them in the kitchen later. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were downcast, unable to meet theirs.

 

“We're going to take Mumps out to play, thought maybe you’d like to come.”

 

Jensen looked behind Jared but couldn’t see either Mumps or Milly.

 

“She’s putting her wellies on.” Jared chewed a fingernail in his mouth and mumbled through it, “M’sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It was hard to step back. She’s my daughter.”

 

Jensen wanted to contradict him, _she's our daughter,_ and his internal dialogue shocked him, because he was sure he wasn't the kind of person who believed the government rhetoric. He was grateful that Danneel didn't hesitate to reassure their husband.

 

“God, no, Jared! We should have listened to you straight away. We took over and we didn’t ask. We’re new to this, and you’re right, we shouldn’t have interfered. I’m sure Milly needs us to be consistent.”

 

Jared finally raised his face but didn’t hold their gaze. Jensen couldn’t help noticing that his bitten fingernails scratched viciously into the gauze of his wrist bandages.

 

“Are you okay, man?”

 

Jared shrugged it off, “Yeah.” He didn’t sound convincing.

 

The stomp of Milly’s boots and click of Mumps’s claws on the floor prevented any further query.

 

Milly stopped by the breakfast bar. She wrapped her arms around her body, glanced up at Jared, then stuck her thumb in her mouth.

 

He nodded at her and raised his eyebrows.

 

“M'sorry for having a tant’um,” she mumbled, without looking at them. Jensen couldn’t help making the comparison to Jared’s own body language.

 

Danneel knelt with her arms out, “Well, we’re sorry too, because we didn’t think about the way that you usually do things, but you must listen to your daddy. Having a tantrum is ugly and upsetting for everyone. Isn’t it Daddy?” She looked at Jared for confirmation.

 

Jared nodded sternly. Milly burst into tears again, and Danneel hugged her. Little fingers curled into the fabric of her sweater and a soft face buried into her neck.

 

“I don’t hate Daddy,” Milly confessed in a whisper.

 

Danneel whispered back, “Why don’t you tell him that?”

 

She sniffed and untangled herself to throw herself into Jared’s waiting arms. “I love you, Daddy,” she announced, “Do you still love me?”

 

“Of course I do, Princess. Not ever going to stop.”

 

She hung onto him like a monkey, and it looked so natural. “Now! We have something to show Danni and Jensen, don’t we, Milly?”

 

Milly’s tears dried. “My garden! My garden!” She bounced excitedly in his arms.

 

“You coming?” Jared led the way.

 

***

 

There was a riot of exotic color and heavy-hot air was infused with the scent of blossom. Somewhere in the corners of the vast glasshouse a bird trilled. Jensen and Jared sat with their shoulders pressed together on smooth, flat rocks around a trickling fountain which splashed into a lily pond creating circles on the water which expanded then faded, to be replaced by others. Jensen had seen something like it once before, as a child, at the botanic gardens. Of course that hadn't included a tire-swing or the climbing frame which Danni was currently exploring with Milly.

 

“Why haven’t we noticed this? I mean, it’s huge.  It's a slice of paradise.”

 

Jared's fingers curled into Mumps's collar. “It's a prison yard, only Milly doesn't know it yet.”

 

Jensen protested, “Get real. It's nothing like it!”

 

Jared scowled at him. “Yeah, I’ve only lived here my whole life. How would I know?” He shifted slightly and there was distance and cool air between them. He changed the subject and pointed, “The only entrance from the house is down stairs from my apartment. It’s wide but not deep and it blends in with the rest of the house. It’s to do with light and shade, an optical illusion, like a false wall. There’s a door to the garden but it’s quite well hidden.”

 

Jensen nodded, he thought he could remember seeing it, “Where the trees form a canopy? It's clever. It looks like a staff door to the estate offices.”

 

“Sam maintains it on her own. Sometimes Milly and I will plant seeds or tidy up some of the flowerbeds. It’s still fun for her.”

 

“This is awesome, though. Where does the water come from? Do you filter it to stop contaminants getting concentrated in the pond.

 

Jared's answer was pissy and judgmental, “I can’t believe that you are so gullible that you haven’t wondered about our water. It comes from our spring which was never contaminated. It's filtered through hundreds of meters of volcanic rock, and protected from groundwater." Jared gave a cynical chuckle, “The glasshouse wasn’t built for me. Our water comes in through pipes under the soil in here. Dear Grandpa couldn’t risk common people finding out and wanting to share.”

 

Jensen took a moment to process the new information. Most of the population spent their lives drinking water with at least a low level of contamination. It was a reality that Jensen had stopped questioning as a child. It’s just the way things were. Of course, he should have realized that the Padaleckis were both rich and powerful enough to have a different reality. He looked again at the fountain, reached his hand into it so that it splashed clear and cool over his fingers. It was awesome.

 

“That’s even better. You were so lucky to grow up with this,” he enthused as he examined fat, round drops of water which trembled on his skin. “It's like a tropical island.”

 

“What if I wanted to climb mountains?” Jared replied quietly. He looked sad and awkward and Jensen wanted to hold his hand, or hug him, but Jared broke the moment with a loud whistle, and unfolded his long legs to stand up. Mumps whined and got up with him, “C'mon Milly! The dog needs a walk.” Jared hurried ahead of Jensen to catch up with Danneel and Milly and the glasshouse door swung shut in Jensen’s face as they exited. They didn’t seem to notice what had happened and Jared took Danneel's hand, and laughed loudly as they both played hide go seek with Milly under the trees.

 

Jensen lagged behind them. His pants were damp from sitting by the fountain and his hair flattened and stuck to his head. It was cold in the garden and he shivered. He threw a ball for Mumps and kept a distance from Jared and Danneel, feeling somehow  further from them than the physical distance between them.

 

They ate supper together and Jensen ran a glass of water from the tap to drink with his. He marveled at it, still fascinated by this new privilege of clean water they had acquired. The evening news played as they ate. A B*Right demonstration in Washington had ended with five protesters dead, the price of maize had climbed to an all time high and a three-faced sheep had been born near the banks of the Ohio River. Jensen studied the stories intensely, as an excuse to avoid conversation.

 

Jared scraped his soup spoon obnoxiously loudly on his bowl. “Are you mad at me?” he asked Jensen.

 

“What? No!” denied Jensen, without looking up from his own soup.

 

Jared looked at Danneel, and she raised her eyebrows. He  was damned if he was going to put up with Jensen's silent sulk when he hadn't done anything. In fact it was Jensen who had acted as if Jared should be grateful for a few meters of exotic gardens. How could he know anything about it? “Well, you're pissed about something, and I thought we were supposed to talk it out.”

 

Jensen shrugged, “I'm not,” he denied, mashing a piece of carrot with his spoon.

 

Jared licked his spoon clean and pointed it at Jensen, “It should be me who is upset. Our first night married you two crept off to fuck without me.” It was a suspicion he had harbored since Monday morning, when he had woken alone in his bed with old ghosts and poisonous thoughts crowding his mind.

 

Jensen and Danneel looked at each other and reddened. Jensen cleared his throat.

 

Jared's heart sank. He should have known he would never be good enough. “I knew it!” He wiped his lips with his napkin and pushed his chair back, ready to leave the room.

 

“It wasn't like that,” Danni protested.

 

“I get it. I do. I should stay in my place, be grateful for your help. I'm your breeder, a fuck on the side and you didn't choose me. I shouldn't make you feel guilty for my past or my present situation. I wasn't poor or beaten, I had money and clean water, I was  _privileged,_ and it's not like you're ugly or mean. You're always going to like each other more. Just don't pretend, okay? Don't pretend it's more.”

 

“You went back to your own bed,” Jensen pointed out.

 

“You didn't ask me not to.” Jared knew he was being petty but he was feeling oddly argumentative, and a little hurt. He wanted Jensen to hurt too. Circumstances meant Jensen had invaded his life, taken over his home, and stirred up his routines. He was there, looking over his shoulder, scrutinizing the way he led his life, able to dictate changes. He could get up and leave Jared at any time and, realistically, Jared couldn't follow.

 

“Would it have made a difference?” Jensen wanted to know.

 

“I don't want Milly waking up on her own,” admitted Jared before changing the subject, “And you are definitely in a mood about something.”

 

“I'm not, but you are. You can come to our bed any time. Milly's in the same house. There's a monitor. There are staff, for goodness sake.” 

 

“Woah! Put it away, boys! ” Danni smacked her spoon noisily on the table in emphasis. “What is the matter with you?”

 

Jared pouted, he refrained from saying, “You two!” despite it being on the tip of his tongue.

 

Jensen startled and looked at Danneel. There was a steely look in her eyes that dared him to continue.

 

“Jensen, our bed is not nearly big enough for all of us and you have definitely been avoiding Jared this afternoon.” She next fixed Jared with her gaze and continued, “And _you have_ seemed down all day. The question isn't so much why are you both unhappy, but what we can do to fix it? Because I am not playing pig in the middle forever.” She arched an eyebrow.

 

Jared and Jensen spoke together,

 

“I don't even know if Jared likes me. He snubs me constantly and makes it damn clear he wants you.”

 

“Jensen doesn't like me. He had a crush on Miles and I look like him. I’m good for sex, and don’t get me wrong, it’s good sex, I like it, but he never wanted to be stuck with someone like me.”

 

They looked at each other in surprise.

 

Jensen was quick to reply. He reached across the space between them and placed his hand over Jared's, and his words were heartfelt, “Yes, I had a crush on Miles but I like you so much, Jared. There's a physical similarity, and he was hot, but you are hotter. I didn’t ever want to speak badly of him in front of you, because we both loved him, but you are a better person. I would choose you. You're kinder and steadier than him, and well...somehow less cynical… and you do this thing where you flick your hair behind your ear...”

 

Jared unconsciously fingered his hair, brushing it behind his ear.

 

“See!” Jensen said, growling slightly.

 

Jared squirmed in his seat and shot a glance at Danneel before looking back at Jensen. There was some truth in Jensen's original statement, and after Jensen's latest reassurances, he couldn't help feeling guilty about it. Words tumbled from his lips,

 “I don’t know, man. I want to make this work, I really do but I want to sabotage us too. It makes no sense. I make no sense. Every room, every inch of this place has memories. Sometimes it feels like the walls are closing in on me, and I can't get away. There are things about me you don’t know, things that make me unlovable and I remember you from before, Jensen; the parties, the way you treated people, and you don't seem the same now, but it's hard to see you differently. Danni has been sweet to me from the start, she is fresh and new and beautiful, and I have no reason to distrust her. I like you, Jensen. I want to trust you, but I can relax with Danni. I do want to be with her, alone sometimes, and we’re married, so if you can, then why is it wrong for me?” He chewed his ragged nails. “I would always ask your consent though. I know I can stop. _I did stop_.”

 

Danneel blushed and looked down at the table, studying the grain of the wood. The memory of what she had asked Jared to do, and his refusal, was uncomfortable for her.

 

Jensen listened but when he heard the last sentence, saw his wife's reaction, the rest of it was swept away on a tide of jealousy.

 

“What the hell? When?” he demanded to know. He could see Jared shrinking back from him and noticed the way his nails scraped the scars on his wrists, but he couldn't help his anger. “So, you only married us for Danneel?”

 

“No! I did it for Milly. It sounds worse than it is.”

 

Danneel stood and rounded the table to place her hand on Jensen's shoulder. “Jen, stop. It wasn't him, it was me, it was a silly moment before we got to know Jared properly.”

 

Jensen shook her hand from his shoulder, “So you decided to jump into bed with a stranger? I mean have you done that often? Why? When, Danni?” His anger was rapidly being replaced by a sickening sense of betrayal.

 

“No, of course not! Nothing happened.That's the point. You and I argued, and then you ran off. Remember- the night Mumps knocked you over? Jared and I … well, he was kind to me. We baked together. I was annoyed, unsettled by all the change, and he was there. I remembered all the times you cheated on me in the early days, and I wanted more. I was feeling lonely and bitter. But Jared wouldn't take it.” She rubbed Jensen’s shoulder, and he let her. “Even then, he decided that you had to consent – we had to be together on it. I'm glad, I would have regretted it. But I was so angry with you.”

 

Jensen looked at Jared for confirmation. His anger was cooling, but jealousy remained.

 

Jared was shaking. He felt as if he could fly apart at any moment, “Nothing happened,” he repeated Danneel’s words to Jensen. “If I had a choice, I wouldn't be a freak, and I wouldn't need you. I don't know if I would choose you, or Danneel, or both of you. Right now you're all I've got, and I want to make the most of it. Sex is easy, I don’t need love, or even trust for that. I simply don't know how to cope with how you feel.” He paused then, and pointed at Danneel, “How she feels.” He dropped his finger and moved toward the door. “And how that makes me feel. I don't want to split you up. I should go. Don't follow me, I don't feel like discussing it right now.”

 

“But we will talk about it – when we've cooled off. We will fix it, yeah?” Danneel called after him, desperate to hold on to the hope that they could still live up to the promises they had made to each other.

 

There was the faintest nod of Jared's head as he turned away and out of the room. She took it as a positive sign.

 

Jensen buried his head in his hands and groaned. “This is too difficult. I don't understand how my parents did it. I've never felt like this about you before. I don’t want to lose you, and sharing you with him - it feels like losing part of you. I never knew how it felt to be this jealous. I want to believe that you still love me, but after everything you said, I don't know how I'm going to trust you. Did I ever have all of you? I don't know how to get past this.”

 

If Danneel had been inclined to feel sorry for Jensen and continue to comfort him, his words tore her from complacency, and she was suddenly angry with him. “I’m not a dessert to eat whole or share! I can't believe you! Nothing happened! _I have never been unfaithful because I know how it feels._ ” She pounded her hand over her heart, “And nothing happened between me and the man who is our husband, but Jared is right, we should have included him, or at least asked him when we were intimate. He is justified in feeling betrayed about his own wedding night.”

 

“I can't help how I feel.” The retort was muffled against Jensen's arms.

 

She clenched her fists and her jaw clenched with them. “Well boohoo, Princess. Maybe now you know how it felt for me, back in the beginning – the lies about drugs and drink and whores.” She tipped her head to the side thoughtfully, “You know what? Back then, you would have fucked him in a moment, without a worry for me.”

 

Jensen lifted his head up and gave her a sour expression. “We promised that we had a blank slate – that you wouldn't use those times against me.”

 

She yelled then, a single tear tracking down her cheek, “But you would have fucked him, wouldn’t you?”

 

He huffed and looked at the floor, “This isn’t about me,” he replied with rancour.

 

She grabbed his chin in one hand and forced him to look at her, her voice dropped a notch but she was still shouting, “No. It’s about all of us, and if you could stop thinking of me as your property, if you could stop throwing your own guilt back at me, for just one minute, then maybe you could listen to what Jared said and to what I am saying. Maybe you could feel better, maybe we all could.”

 

Danneel sat down beside him and took his hand. She laughed nervously and it continued a little too long. Jensen looked thoroughly dejected and she felt her anger fading. She breathed deep and let it out slowly, then spoke, quiet but determined,

 

“I'm not using your past against you. I'm using it as an example for us. If we all decide that what we have is worth keeping, then we will do what we have done before. We will work at our relationship, and we will keep communicating, and keep reminding ourselves why we are doing it. This time it will include Jared, and we will make it good. Better, even.”

 

“That is some serious optimism,” Jensen muttered sarcastically.

 

She patted Jensen's hand and got up. “Decide if we're worth it, Jensen. I am going for a swim.”

 

She left him sitting alone, with his head still buried in his hands and his fingers tugging at his hair.

 

Much later, when the house was still and dark and Danneel pretended to sleep in their bed, Jensen crept into their room. “I'm sorry,” he said. “You're right, Jared and Milly are worth fighting for, you're worth fighting for, and I'm an idiot. I never thought about how much my actions hurt you. I never knew that the pain is almost physical. My father used to go on about proper marriage with my mom - he used to say _there is no ownership, only partnership_.”

 

Danneel stirred and turned on a lamp so she could see his expression. It was full of remorse.

 

“I don't think I understood it before, but I’m prepared to work on it.” Jensen continued.

 

“Good,” nodded Danneel, “Now come to bed.” She patted the space beside her.

 

“Just to sleep,” qualified Jensen. “Until we settle things with Jared.”

 

“There's a massive bed in one of the guest suites,” mumbled Danneel. “We should agree on a different room, closer to Jared and Milly, and use the big bed.”

 

“Yeah, we will,” Jensen agreed, “But what he said - about sex without trust - do you think he meant us? Do we need to fix that first?”

 

He stripped to his boxer briefs and climbed into bed with Danneel.

 

She cuddled into his side. “Probably,” she mumbled through a soft kiss to his shoulder, “It will take time rather than words.”

 

“And actions,” Jensen concurred, “But if we don’t know why he’s like he is, how can we know what to do?”

 

Danneel yawned, their argument had left her exhausted.“Listen and try, I guess.

 

Not for the first time, Jensen decided that he was an asshole, and he was beyond grateful that Danneel was prepared to fight for what they had. He felt her smooth skin against his and luxuriated in the sensation and the memories it sparked. He never wanted to lose her.

 

Jensen woke in the night, soaked in the cold sweat of a nightmare; of drowning in an orgy of bodies and drugs, of the gaze of a dozen pregnant whores whispering, “It’s yours.” He went to the bathroom to freshen up without looking up from the sink because he  couldn’t bear to look at his reflection in the mirror. He studied the water instead -cold, clear, pure, _safe_.

 

Danneel was awake, propped on one elbow when he slipped back into bed, “You, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Jensen reassured her, “Hey. Didn't Jared's dad die from a heart attack. I mean, it was the blight, right?"

"What? Why?" Danneel was adorably sleepy and confused by his question.

"Just. I don't know. It's weird, because they had safe water."

"S'pose it rains on everyone," yawned Danneel.

"S'pose it does," echoed Jensen. It wasn't something he needed to think too hard about. He remembered his nightmare, flung an arm around Danneel and spooned her close, 

"Honey, do me a favor. Make sure any bed that we use has a new mattress. You don’t want to know…”

 

“Ssh. Of course. Go back to sleep.”

 

***

 

Jared’s sheets twisted around him as he tossed and turned. He fluffed up his pillows and flopped his head back onto them, sighed, reached for his clock to look at the time and sighed again, before getting out of bed and going to tuck Milly’s covers around her, and smooth her soft hair spilling over her pillow. She slept on, innocent and beautiful. He wandered into the bathroom and emptied the cabinet, selected a safety razor and took it back to his room, watched the green plastic twirl as he spun it around in his fingers. It was mesmerizing, irresistible.

 

He looked up before he unclipped its cover, a guilty check that Milly hadn’t woken and come looking for him, but he was alone. Beside the bed, his guitar shined in the lamplight and Jared stalled. He put the razor down and picked the guitar up, strummed a ‘D’ and it was rich and tuneful. He settled comfortably on his bed and strummed again, stuck his tongue between his teeth to deliver an imperfect verse of ‘Hey Jude’, and he could because Jensen had restrung Jared’s guitar, just as he had promised he would. Jensen, who had no reason to do anything but curse Jared, had done it anyway, without any motive or promise of reward. He had said he wanted to see Jared happy, maybe jam along with him. Imperfect, infuriating, _gorgeous_ Jensen _fucking_ Ackles had done that for him.

  
Jared threw the razor in the trash and concentrated on his fingering. He played ‘Hey Jude’ over and over, until the pads of his fingers developed a satisfying sting and he could no longer stay awake.


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

Danneel and Jensen went back to eating their breakfast in the kitchen. Christian glared across the shiny-clean space at them but didn't comment. Their fresh fruit muesli and polite conversation wasn't a patch on pop tarts on the floor in front of toddler T.V.

 

Jared avoided them and they decided not to push him. Jensen logged into his work email and cursed his suppliers before making several calls to reorganize his teams. Danneel put on sensible shoes, found Travis polishing cars and took the journey to the City Grind to help with the lunchtime rush.

 

A few days later, Jared nodded politely as he passed them in the hall and invited them to help make play-doh figures with Milly. They rolled pastries and cut shapes and pretended to bake and Milly laughed and Jared smiled at her, but the adult conversation was mundane comments on the weather and how clever Milly was. When it was time to clear away, Jensen suggested that Milly help him tidy up while Danneel made coffee.

 

They took Mumps for a walk together again. The sun was sickly pale in a hyacinth blue sky. All around them fresh leaves burst from rolled buds but their breath puffed tiny clouds in the air and their words stuck to their tongues.

 

Samantha Smith was working in the rhododendron garden where early flowers made a wall of bright color on healthy shrubs. She stood up and stretched her back when she noticed their approach. Mumps ran to sit by her side and he wriggled his whole body while his tail wagged enthusiastically. She rewarded him with a fuss.

 

“Wow, these are looking great, Sam,” complimented Danneel.

 

“The secret is in good soil and hardy varieties,” she said.

 

There was glance between Sam and Jared, something unspoken that was gone in a moment.

 

“It's all about the fertilizer,” said Jared with a hint of humor.

 

Sam punched his arm playfully, “It's all your bullshit, Jared.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

Milly threw a ball and Mumps heaved himself up to chase it.

 

Sam watched her fondly, “She's a pretty little spitfire. Reminds me of you at that age.”

 

Jared blushed, “So, I get hyper when I scarf sweets.”

 

“And you were pretty!” laughed Jensen.

 

Jared flicked his hair dramatically, “I still am.”

 

There was no comeback for that. Sam tipped her head at Jared, “C'mere,” she said, and he let her take him into a squeezing hug, “It's lovely to see you together. I was worried.”

 

He relaxed into her hug and patted one huge hand on her back, “I'm good today,” he reassured her. He wasn't exactly good, but it was a fine spring day and nothing awful had happened so far. He was good enough, he supposed.

 

It was an affectionate exchange, almost domestic and Jared must have sensed Jensen and Danneel's curiosity.

 

They untangled themselves and Jared explained. “When Miles and I were growing up, father didn't believe in coddling us with any maternal influence but Samantha was cool. She would to listen to us _and_ she let us race the lawn mowers.”

 

“I most certainly did not, boy!”

 

Jared grinned, “Well, you forgot to hide the key to the store anyways.”

 

Sam gave a genuine laugh. “You better get after that little spitfire before she gives you the slip.” She winked, “Bring her over one evening. It'll be fun for me and you can have fun too.”

 

“I will, “ he promised.

 

He paused for a moment to snap a branch of frothy pink blooms and then another in white. Beside him he knew that Danneel and Jensen were waiting for an apology, or an explanation, or at least some sign from him to explain his behavior in the days before. The longer he waited to give it, the harder it became. He kept walking, instinctively heading for the familiar cold stone of the family crypt.

 

They didn't go inside. He didn't want Milly to see the stark coffin on bare rock – wanted to let her imagine a house beyond the doors, with tea-parties and cosy armchairs. Milly pouted and yelled that it wasn't fair, that she should be allowed to go in, to play with her pa. It was _bad_ of pa to hide from her. Jared consoled her and she cried a little but she took the pink rhododendrons and they each laid a branch of flowers at the mausoleum door for her pa to see when the stars shone.

 

Milly was easily distracted, her frustration melted when a pigeon landed heavily on the grass and strutted toward her. She walked after it, called it to come to her and then chased it into an inelegant take-off when it wouldn't.

 

Jared stood in silent contemplation for a few minutes, no longer angry but scared and alone. It was as if his skin no longer fit him and he itched to feel the pain and release of it splitting, of his blood dripping wet from him. He clenched his fists, ground his teeth and bit the inside of his lip instead.

 

“We should have brought proper flowers,” he heard Danneel say, through a haze of his thoughts.

 

There was a soft touch on his shoulder, then Jensen's large hand rubbed a soothing circle on his back. “I don't know what to say. I can't imagine how much you must miss him,” Jensen said.

 

“He liked when we picked flowers from the grounds. He'd stick 'em in an old beer bottle and put them by our bed,” said Jared. He leaned into Jensen's touch.

 

It was an intimate detail and Jensen didn't push him for more. “Do you want to stay a while? We could take Milly back to the house,” he suggested.

 

Jared shook his head, “No. I don't really know why I came.” He turned away from the crypt. “Let's go. I could make cocoa with mini marshmallows in.”

 

Milly's eyes went wide at the suggestion. She grabbed Jared's arm and swung around him, “Yes, yes, daddy's mushmally cocoa.”

 

“You'd better run ahead and wash your hands and face and make sure your room is tidy then,” Jared told her.

 

Thumb in mouth she skipped ahead of them as they turned back toward the house. Jensen dropped his hand from Jared's back and Jared felt the loss of its warmth. His own fingers searched out Jensen's, intertwined with them and held on. _Stay with me_ he wanted to say, but it felt awkward. “Are you two okay?” he asked instead, not sure what he would do if the answer was ‘no’.

 

Jensen squeezed his hand a little. “Yeah, we are. We talked. We’ll work it out y’know, all of us together.” He bumped shoulders with Jared and Jared leaned into him, needy for the contact. Jensen didn’t pull away and they walked, side by side, with matching steps.

 

Danneel looked at them both and her lips curved upwards. She fitted perfectly pressed into Jensen's other side with her hand around his waist and his hand resting on her shoulder. They walked together, at an easy pace and Jensen and Danneel waited for Jared to speak again and break the wall he had started to build.

 

“It's not love,” Jared said eventually, as they reached the house and they broke apart. Door hinges squeaked as they spilled into the warmth of the boot room and Milly clattered ahead into the main house to tidy her room. “I mean, me, not you. You two, that's love and it seems so easy for you. With me, it's an arrangement. I wanted to start a fight. I felt confined and envious. Living this way - it gets to me sometimes.”

 

They scraped the mud off their boots and the air reeked of wet dog and grass. Mumps let Jared towel the dirt from him.

 

“It could be more than an arrangement,” protested Danneel.

 

 

“But it isn't. I’m cool with the arrangement, so it seems silly to argue about it. It can be fun and there are things I want to try, but I'm not important enough to break up what you have. You should be able to relax and be intimate without asking my permission. Don't you see?” Jared shook his coat and placed it on a hook.

 

Jensen helped Danneel out of her coat and placed their coats on the hooks beside it. “We're not breaking up,” he sighed, “I was being petty and stupid.”

 

Danneel nodded, “We can have fun and be friends and see where it goes from there. You can pick a room where you'll be comfortable with us when you want to join us, and we can move that huge bed in.”

 

Jared looked devastated,  “I thought we were _already_ friends,” he choked out. He knew it had been bitchy of him to start a fight between them and they couldn't be expected to just brush it off. It still hurt to think they needed to start over.

 

Jensen's firm grip closed around Jared's wrist, grounding him.

 

“We _are_ friends Jared, but we have so much to learn about each other. We want to know _everything_ about you and about Milly. We want to be a real family.”

 

Jared chewed his lip, his other hand tore at the fabric of his pants.  _Don’t panic, don’t panic,_ “What if you don’t like what you discover? I’m not a good person,” he replied.

 

Jensen could feel Jared’s pulse racing against his fingers and it somehow felt urgent that Jared know he was wanted - that for reasons Jensen couldn’t properly explain, even to himself, Jensen cared for Jared, _really cared_ and needed him to be happy. “Jared, we may not have known you for long, but we know that’s not true. What is in the past stays there. Nobody is ever perfect but you are in control of the pace and direction we take with this.”

 

Jensen was speaking, but it was just words. Jared thought their boots made a wedge pattern all lined up - Jared's huge foot, Jensen's slightly smaller, Danneel's dainty size, and  Milly's tiny green frog-face boots. It was a distraction yet still his lungs seemed to freeze and his chest tightened. Some ugly, violent secrets should stay in the dark. His mind supplied a memory, the smell of wet earth and cold touch of a shovel, the scrape and thump of digging. His hands shook and he closed his eyes.

 

Jensen's grip on Jared’s wrist remained and the stroke of his thumb gradually reassured him. Jared remembered the rhododendron flowers, pictured the bushes full-grown and sturdy. He let himself take a breath.

 

“Unless you're telling us that you can't make cocoa with marshmallows, because that would be a deal breaker,” joked Danneel.

 

Jared saw her as if through a fog of unreality, smiling softly at him. He took deep breaths, in and out, counted seven times like Miles had taught him. Jensen's thumb continued to smooth back and forth over his wrist. It was soft and warm and Jared could feel his pulse through the pad, or was it his own heartbeat? It didn't matter, it was a steady thrum-thrum. He snapped back to himself. “Cocoa, right. I can do that.”

 

“Good. Well, I gotta pee. See you there.” Danneel rushed off.

 

“Are we good? Are you good?” Jensen lifted their arms together, indicating Jared's scarred wrist and his green eyes seemed to bore into him.

 

Jared knew then that Jensen's actions hadn't been a coincidence. Jensen had noticed his panic. He had cared and acted on it. It was unexpected empathy. He blinked back a tear. “Yeah. Bring on the sugar. I'll be fine.”

 

Jensen loosed his hold, ran his hands through his short hair, spiking it a little. “I'll come with you,” he offered.

 

“Gotta catch me first.” Jared teased and set off running with Jensen hot on his heels. They slid around a corner, socks on polished parquet, only to have to swerve around Travis who was using a floor buffer.

 

“Mind the... oh, crap!” The buffer clattered to the floor.

 

Jared and Jensen came to a halt, bumping shoulders, “Sorry,” they said in perfect unison.

 

“Hey, it's nice to see you together, I guess.”

 

“Right. Good,” said Jared, looking at Jensen, “Well, I'm winning, anyway.”

 

“Oh, really?”

 

They set off again, racing for the stairs.

 

***

 

The laughter was unexpected. They spent the evening eating pizza, drinking beer and playing picture dominoes with Milly. When she cried because her Pa would have let her match a ladybird with a teddy bear it was Jensen who scooped her up and blew raspberries on her tummy and made her laugh again. Jared tucked her into her bed with her bunny, had her say goodnight to Fred and Mumps and then they took turns to read Old MacDonald, with Jared making the stupidest animal noises.

 

The moon was high when the curtains were closed against a chilly night. Wine and Trivial Pursuit eased them into a relaxed conversation. The squeak of Fred’s hamster wheel faded into background noise and snippets of Jared's life slipped from his tongue. He was animated when he spoke, reliving happy moments with a gleam in his eyes. There was the time that Jared pretended to be Miles in school and the teacher called their father because he was suddenly right handed where Miles had always been left handed. Then there was the week when Jared caught mumps because his father had only cared to have Miles vaccinated. Miles had been angry and worried and he refused to leave Jared's side to attend school unless their father gave Jared a puppy to keep him company. Miles had been so persistent that their father had caved in and acquired the ugliest mongrel pup he could find. Of course Jared and Miles had adored him, and the name Mumps had stuck forever.

 

Mumps heard his name mentioned, woke and ambled to them, wagging his tail and knocking wine over the board game, ending it in a confused tie. Danneel asked if Milly had Twister, and playing it seemed like a great idea.

 

When yet another bottle of wine stood empty, bourbon replaced it. The game pointer whirled and Jensen and Jared were giggly and competitive.

 

“You and me. Winner takes all,” suggested Jared.

 

“All of what? You offering something special?” Jensen asked with a cheeky grin.

 

Jared's tongue poked between his lips and licked them to a shine. He combed his long fingers through his perspiration-damp hair. _Oh, yeah_ , Jensen thought, _he could take all of that, with his stupidly long limbs, firm ass and sex-puppy face._

 

Jared's answering chuckle was wicked, his eyes gleamed hazel-gold, “Pop-tarts in the morning. As many as the winner wants.”

 

Danneel stuck her hand up, “Oh, oh, me too. Loser makes Pop Tarts for everyone,” she paused for a moment, “In bed,” she added.

 

Okay, so it wasn't what he was expecting but Jensen wasn't about to turn the challenge down.

 

“You're on!”

 

Danneel's vision was starting to swim and her cheeks glowed warm. She and Jensen didn't normally drink much. She stripped to just her old black vest top and red satin panties and sat cross-legged on the floor to spin the pointer and officiate.

 

Jensen spilled bourbon on his tee shirt trying to prove that he was supple enough to do the almost-splits while the holding a drink. Danneel said they could take it off without anyone forfeiting the game as long as they only moved one hand each. Jared pretended to help, used his teeth to tug the hem of the tee upwards but played dirty by grazing over the nub of Jensen's nipples. He followed up with a swipe of his tongue and a throaty, “Oh the things we could do to you like this, pretty boy.”

 

Jensen gritted his teeth. Jared was shiny-eyed and loose with liquor, and the emotional distance he usually maintained was gone. It felt entirely too good. “Cheat! Danni, he's cheating!” he complained anyway.

 

Danneel supported Jensen. “Jared, stop cheating!”

 

“Why what's the forfeit?” You gonna spank me?” he slurred enthusiastically, as Jensen's shirt finally came loose over his head and landed on top of him.

 

Danneel puckered up with an adorably crinkled nose. There was an abundance of firm male flesh and she thought it was altogether too far from her own skin. “ Or you won't get a kiss from me,” she threatened.

 

“But he's trying to unbalance me!” protested Jared, ignoring Danneel's comical face and shaking Jensen’s shirt onto the yellow spot with a shake of his head, his hair flicking like a shampoo commercial.

 

Danneel spun the pointer, “Quit moaning, y'all. Hand on green.”

 

Jared and Jensen looked for a green spot and then at each other. This was going to be the decider. They both needed to twist around and Jensen would have to face up and reach an arm under Jared to touch the green. They moved at the same time, competitive and determined. Jensen's hand touched the green just as Jared twisted and his foot slipped on the drink-slick plastic.

 

“Whoa.”

“Agh.”

 

They landed in a laughing heap, with Jared on top of Jensen. Jensen's bare chest heaved with the need to breathe under Jared's sudden, hot weight.

 

“Sorry,” they said together.

 

In her inebriated state Danneel thought their collapse was way too funny and she dissolved into laughter that wouldn’t stop.

 

Jared pushed up onto one hand and Jensen breathed out in relief. “Dude, You're heavy.”

 

Jensen and Jared were face to face, an inch apart, and Jared remembered all the things he loved about Jensen's face. There was a red flush of alcohol and exertion that stained his cheeks but it didn't detract from the symmetry, the chiselled jawline, jewel-green eyes framed with thick lashes and laughter lines and the spatter of golden freckles. Oh and then there was his mouth – pink and plump like a bow to set off the rest of his wrapping. Jared was allowed to kiss that mouth, and he hadn't exercised that prerogative nearly enough. It was such a short distance to lean in and capture those lips, so he did.

 

It took Jensen by surprise when Jared's mouth crashed into his with an impulsive kiss. It was open-mouthed, messy and uncontrolled and Jensen welcomed it, even while his mind questioned it.

 

Danneel's stomach ached from laughing but as the kiss continued she quieted and scooted closer to observe them. The boys, _her boys,_ she supposed _,_ were oblivious to her, pressed together kissing lazily after a passionate start. Jensen clutched Jared's hair in his hand, his fingers brushing through it and tugging it in equal measure. Jared leaned on one bent arm _._ His other hand cupped Jensen's chin with his long fingers stroking his face. It was sloppy-noisy and their breath stank of garlic and alcohol. Whether it was the drink or something else, their actions were strangely non-sexual. She wasn't sure if it should make her horny or envious but she felt peaceful. It took the pressure off her if Jared could fully embrace Jensen's presence in their relationship.

 

Jared made happy hmm-ing noises. Jensen's eyes were focussed on Jared but he was struggling to keep them open. Danneel felt sleepy and a little nauseous. She lay down next to them and the plastic sheet crinkled under her. It occurred to her that she was drunk, _really very_ drunk and she wasn't the only one. She reached a hand to Jensen's face, twined her fingers with Jared's to touch the roughness of Jensen's evening stubble.

 

“Hey, you two are looking _fine_ ,” she slurred.

 

They came to a slow halt, their mouths separated and they licked their spit shiny lips. They looked at her, confused to find her on the floor beside them.

 

“Don't mind me. Have the sexy. Jus' lyin' here, goin' sleep.” She waved her free hand in the air, before mumbling something incoherent that included the word, “PopTarts.”

 

“Mmm.” Jensen ground his hips up against Jared's, as if he was only just considering sex as an option.

 

Jared bent his head to nuzzle Jensen's ear. “You look good from this angle, would look good stuffed with my cock. I think Danni agrees.” Jared kissed a trail from Jensen's ear back to his mouth.

 

Jensen opened his eyes wide and startled, “Yeah? I thought...”

 

“You thought a breeder wouldn't want that?”

 

“Yeah, no, I dunno. Do you?”

 

“Shit Jensen! Look at you, with your pretty eyes and shiny hair and god - that ass! Who wouldn't want to plug that.” Jared caressed his cheek. “Stupid!” he added, affectionately.

 

Jensen gave a drawn out groan and pumped his hips up again, looking for friction, “You're good.” He bit his lip, “Not here, we need things, I want to try, with you, for you.”

 

Jared ground down but his cock was taking way too long to get interested and Jensen's reply worried him. He tilted Jensen's face to look him in the eyes. They were the glazed-happy of a drunk man. “Are you telling me you've never bottomed?” He tried to keep the disbelief from his voice.

 

“I got a wife,” grinned Jensen, “She's the best wife.”

 

Danneel snored.

 

Jensen writhed under Jared. “Well, c'mon, your place or mine?”

 

It was a good question. Jared rolled off Jensen. The combination of floor and plastic felt damp and cold. His vision reeled in an interesting kaleidoscope pattern as he struggled to stand up. He huffed. His drink-soaked brain assessed their situation, a skill he had acquired over the years with Miles. “Mine, I think. He lay down again, side by side with Jensen. “Jen, can you walk? 'Cos I don't think I can.”

 

“What? Why?” Jensen sat up abruptly. “Holy! Ouch!” He was suddenly light-headed and it had nothing to do with any kissing. He swayed to his feet. “Yeah. M'fine,” he lied, “Want me to get the lube?”

 

Jared chuckled, “Oh, man! You want your first time to be drunk on the floor.” He shook his head, “Seriously, no, dude. _Nothing_ is going to happen tonight. We are _so_ drunk.”

 

“M' not,” denied Jensen, standing as straight as he could.

 

From Jared’s position on the floor Jensen looked like a god on the heights of Olympus, but Jared couldn't let that change his mind. “Good,” he said. “Then you can get Danni into my bed. Mebbe call Chris in case we don't wake up for Milly.”

 

“You want to fuck me with Danni asleep in the bed?”

 

“No! Party boy! I'm going to sleep, you are going to sleep and Danni is going to sleep. If you still want my manly cock in the morning, then the fuck party is on.” Jared pointed a finger at the swaying man above him, “I'm placin' my bets that the toilet bowl will be more attractive than me.”

 

Jensen wanted to argue with him. He was older than Jared, married with a career, more responsible. He could make up his own mind if he was too drunk.

 

Danni stirred and snored again, long drawn out and gurgling. Jensen thought his heart missed a beat. He practically fell to the floor beside her. “Help me get her on her side.”

 

Jared was beside him already, somehow revitalized by a sense of emergency. “You take her that side, I'll take this side.

 

They staggered to Jared's bedroom with Danneel between them and she dropped and bounced on the mattress before they settled her in the recovery position at the edge of the bed. Jared grabbed his trash can, emptied it carelessly onto the floor and put it on the floor beside her. “Sick bucket,” he explained.

 

Jensen crashed on the bed beside her. The linen was soft and welcoming, the pillows were downy heaven. The room was spinning around him. He didn't want to admit that Jared might be right but maybe he didn't have to. Jared was already pulling the comforter up, tucking Jensen in, like a child.

 

“Oh. Where will you sleep?” Jensen asked.

 

“I'll take the couch.”

 

“Nooo!” protested Jensen. “There’s lots of space for you.”

 

“I told you nothing is going to happen with you and me tonight, Jensen.” And that was definitely Jared's _daddy_ voice.

 

Jensen waggled his little finger. “No. I pinky promise. Come to bed. Sleep only.”

 

Wide green eyes pleaded. Jared's legs were heavy with the effects of alcohol and it looked inviting to have somebody by his side. He missed being held by Miles, waking up as little spoon, _not waking alone_ . He hesitated, reluctant to trust and weighing up his options. He decided he would rather _know._ If Jensen ignored his refusal, made a move on him, then at least he understood his place in the relationship. He could plan ahead, take safeguards and save himself from falling in love again.

 

He stripped to his boxer briefs and lifted the corner of the comforter to get in.

  
“Scoot over, then.”


	14. Chapter 14

 

Danneel didn't want to open her eyes. The pulse in her head was jack-hammering, her mouth was dry and sour, she couldn't feel her left leg, and the heating must have malfunctioned because sweat was rolling off her. Still, she knew she had to move because she was going to vomit, and wherever she was it probably wasn't the right place to do it.

 

Beside her, Jensen yawned and moved. Her leg became fuzzy with pins and needles as a weight was lifted from it. A hand smoothed her shoulder, “How're you?” somebody mumbled tiredly and she startled because it wasn't Jensen lying next to her at all.

 

She didn't have time to think about it. Everything she had drunk the night before was determined to make a reappearance and the room swayed as she opened her eyes to Jared's bedroom and wondered how to get to his bathroom quickly.

 

Jared's safe hands steadied her as she sat up and he shoved a waste basket into her hand.

 

“You're not going to make it. Don't even try.”

 

Danneel briefly wondered how awful she must look and how unromantic it was for her first time in bed with Jared. Then she puzzled over why she was in bed with him. It was mortifying. “I can't, I sh... bleuch.”

 

Jared sat up on the edge of the bed with her. One hand smoothed her back, while his other held her hair back from her face. Jensen had never been so attentive when she had a hangover, but that was because when Danneel had a hangover, Jensen was sure to be sleeping off his own.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” she said. She was a snotty, crying mess.

 

“We've all been there,” reassured Jared as he wiped her face with a wet cloth, which smelt of fresh lemon and felt a little like heaven. “You done?” he asked her.

 

She answered shakily, “Yeah, for now, I think.”

 

He took the basket, stood up and strode to his bathroom. He was in soft pjs and he didn't look well. He was sleep-sweaty with red flushed cheeks and his red-rimmed eyes stood out in his too-pale face. His hair was fluffy, sticking out in all directions. He was still in better shape than her.

 

A soft old tee shirt covered her, sliding off one of her shoulders, so large it had to be Jared's. Her bra was gone but her panties were the same ones as she was wearing the day before. Somebody snored nearby. She looked around gingerly to see Jensen on the far side of Jared's bed, sleeping like a baby, and breathed a small sigh of relief that she hadn't been alone with Jared. Jensen looked peaceful. She never understood how he managed to sleep off his drunken nights in a much more dignified way than her.

 

Jared returned with the waste basket, washed and fresh in one hand. In the other, he offered a glass of water.

 

She sipped slowly, beginning to revive a little but her head was pounding. She tugged the tee shirt back onto her one shoulder and it slid down the other, “Jared did we...?”

 

Jared stopped her before she finished her sentence, “No, we didn't. None of us were even half capable. I woke in the night and your top had ridden up. You had red marks from your bra, so I found something else.” He bit his lip, and his fingers tapped nervously on his thigh, “Is it okay? I mean I know I took it off but I swear I didn't touch – well more than I had to. I know how uncomfortable it is waking up with that shit on.”

 

“Uh, it’s good, thanks.” She took another sip of water and Jared produced two advil and offered them to her. She swallowed them gratefully.

 

Her mind slowly circled back around to Jared's words, “Jared, how do you know what it feels like to wake up in a bra?”

 

His hand pushed his hair back behind one ear. He gave an adorably impish smile, “Uh-uh, not telling.”

 

“Really?!”

 

“Really,” he gave a full-on giggle and it was glorious to hear, even with every sound thumping and echoing in her head.

 

“One day you will tell me that story,” she insisted.

 

He put an arm around her shoulder, hugged her into his side and placed a soft-lipped kiss on the top of her head. “I don't remember it well,” he said, before becoming more serious, “Should I wake Jensen? He seems okay, only it's late and he's hardly stirred.”

 

“Oh, he will be fine,” she said, glancing over at Jensen and speaking affectionately, “The bastard never suffers as much as he should.”

 

“Oh, right. That's good.” Jared sounded like he meant it.

 

“Speaking of – how the hell do you do it? I swear we all drank as much.”

 

“I'm bigger, besides, it's not my first rodeo.”

 

“Oh, of course.” The thought was sobering.

 

“It wasn't just Miles,” Jared added, too quickly, “Milly has had her fair share of stomach upsets, and even Christian has had too much to drink once or twice.”

 

She nestled into his side. It did feel warm and safe there. “And it's always you who looks after them?” 

 

“ Mother-hen genes must come with my womb.”

 

“Not with mine, but I like the mother-hen side of you. It's nicer than spiky-hedgehog-Jared.”

 

He smiled and smoothed her hair, “I'll try and remember that.”

 

Somewhere in the room a phone beeped.

 

“Oh, god! The coffee shop!”

 

Jared patted her knee, “I hope you don't mind. I spoke to someone called Genevieve, said you had a stomach upset. She said you hadn't any shifts marked on the roster and she'd tell Osric.  I spoke to someone named Steve, at Jensen's office, and he said, no problem - Jensen was mostly working from home anyway and he should check his email.”

 

She groaned, her stomach was rolling again, “And Milly?”

 

“She's planting a herb garden with Samantha today. I’m going to check on her in a while. You should stay here, get some rest and some breakfast.”

 

“You're a god,” Danneel said just before grabbing the basket and hurling again. It was going to be a miserable morning.

 

***

 

Jared stepped into the garage, breathed the familiar air, heavy with wax polish. He stopped and ran his hand over the smooth paintwork of the 1967 Impala which had been Miles’s favorite. No matter how fast any other car could accelerate, or how loud their sound system, there was something solid, and reassuring about this one. The door creaked as Jared opened it and it shut behind him with a heavy clunk as he sat on the smooth vinyl of the passenger side - the driver’s seat had never been his. He turned the radio on and country music blasted his ears. He settled back in the seat and closed his eyes, tapped along to the music on his thigh. A rap on the window and then the thunk of the driver’s door closing didn’t surprise him. He opened one eye and looked at Christian as his friend settled on the vinyl in Miles’s space.

 

Christian turned the volume down to speak. “Why so secretive?”

 

Jared looked him directly in the eyes, “I know what you’re capable of. I know you have contacts.”

 

“Yeah? I like you Jared, but I don’t do that any more. I retired, I cook, remember?” Christian’s hand went back to the door handle, ready to leave.

 

“Yeah, but you don’t like people who hurt other people, who think they’re better than them.” Jared unlatched the glove compartment, slid out a false bottom to reveal a hidden envelope. “I can’t ask Jensen and Danneel to do this. They can't know this. It’s out of their league.”

 

“What have you done with the Ackles anyway? Haven’t seen ‘em since they spent the evening with you.”

 

“In my bed with hangovers.”

 

Chris thumped Jared playfully on the shoulder, “Man, you’re a dark horse sometimes.”

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

“Then you’re an idiot.”

 

Jared shook his head, “No, it’s good. I asked Jensen not to, and he didn’t.”

 

Christian nodded slowly, reached across to ruffle Jared’s hair, “Yeah, you’re right, that is good. You can trust ‘em. Are you going to try harder with them?”

 

Jared didn’t reply, simply slid a set of black and white prints from the envelope and set them on the dashboard in front of them. “I think so, which is why I’m asking you for this. Sheppard knows I can’t do anything with these. Without them, he can keep coming for me and for the estate and he’s not going to stop. It’s about your job too. I don’t think you want to work for the prick.”

 

Christian rolled his eyes and shook his head with an air of resignation. “I would quit, but I get it, you don’t have the option. Let me see.” He picked the pictures up, one at a time and scrutinized them without a shred of emotion on his face. He shuffled through them and thoughtfully re ordered them. “So, this is what Miles had on Sheppard? Mutually assured destruction?”

 

It was a rhetorical question. Jared bit his lip and picked at a thread on his pants.  

 

“This girl…” Christian tilted  the photograph he was holding and squinted at the details, “This isn't Helix House. This is real?”

 

“It's one of Sheppard's apartments. He said it was fake, just play, but nobody ever saw her again. Miles looked for her, even hired a man. He never found her, but she was a prostitute. Nobody cared.”

 

Christian watched Jared wipe a tear from the side of his eye.

 

“You care.” Chris stated. “But I’m still retired, and this is a police matter.” He stared at another photograph and sighed.

 

Jared could see his friend's resolve fading and he let himself hope just a little. 

 

“Crap, Jared! It isn’t Miles in the foreground is it? Sheppard doesn't just know _about you_. He's met you - intimately, according to this. If there’s no evidence connected to this girl then what makes you think he won’t turn you in anyway.”

 

He shrugged. “He backed off before. He doesn’t want the police anywhere near his affairs.”

 

Chris growled, “I really don’t need to doing this shit, Jared.”

 

Jared looked away in disappointment and snatched the picture back, “I knew this was a bad idea. I just thought, even if you couldn’t do it for me, you could do it for her. She didn’t deserve to be forgotten. Sheppard shouldn’t think it’s easy to do that.”

 

Chris settled back into the seat. He grabbed all the pictures, sorted through them again, one by one, and drew a noisy breath. “Are you scared of him?”

 

 “I think I don’t exist. I’m disposable, and there are things he likes to do, unsafe things.” His fingernails scraped over the scars on his wrist. He wanted to be anywhere but here revisiting old nightmares and asking an impossible favor. 

 

Christian raised his fist, banged it angrily into the steering wheel, “What the hell do you think you were doing, Jared? I mean, I knew you and Miles did some kinky shit, nobody in this house could help knowing, but  _this_ is _nasty_. How old were you? Sixteen, seventeen? What _you_ were doing was unsafe. Whoever took this roll was filming _you._ The girl is background noise.”

 

Jared dragged his hand over his face, “I know. Nobody knew what was on the roll until it was developed.  I _wasn’t_ thinking back then. There are things I like to do, _to have done to me_ , but never like Sheppard does them. It changed after that, I got more picky. Miles watched out for me, told me who to avoid at parties, gave me a screech alarm which fitted in my palm and a safe word.”

 

“He pimped you out?” Christian didn’t disguise the disgust in his voice.

 

“No! He didn't want me to do it, but he knew he couldn't stop me.”

 

“Fuck!” Chris punched the steering wheel again. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth, then focused back on the photographs, gathered them up and slid them into the envelope. “Negatives?” he asked.

 

Jared indicated the false bottom of the glove compartment, “They stay there.”

 

Christian opened his door with a dull click and slid from the seat, “You never gave me these, Jared. You don’t ask what I do with them, you don’t thank me, you forget they ever existed. You clear on that?”

 

“Yes, I get it, thank...,”

 

Chris curled his fist, “Jared, I swear…”

 

Jared raised his hands in surrender, “Sorry.”

 

Christian leaned into the car, looming unusually large over Jared, “You got it?”

 

Jared nodded meekly, “I got it.”

 

“And Jared - if you don’t sit down and discuss this kinky shit with Jensen and Danneel, I mean _really_ talk about it, then _I will_ show them these.”

 

“Chris, I can’t…”

 

“They’re not the Waltons. You said that Jensen listened to you last night, so _man up_ already. D’ya hear me?”  Christian slammed the door a little too hard as he got out.

 

Jared patted his seat and apologized to the car. He turned his music up and leaned back into the vinyl to think.

***

 

Staring at blank white paper, Jared almost regretted the suggestion that he had made, that they all make a detailed list of what they hoped and wanted from their relationship – no airy ideals, just the nitty gritty like division of labor, routines, choice of bedroom and of course kinks and deal-breakers in the bedroom. He didn’t regret it enough to stop. Christian didn’t threaten anything lightly.

 

Jensen cradled his head and peered at the paper he was writing on. He had been apologetic ever since waking and while he didn't mention the subject of the previous evening and the almost-sex-on-the floor, the small sideways glances he kept giving Jared suggested that he hadn't forgotten.

 

Danneel scribbled on her paper and bit her pencil between notes, like it was some sort of exam.

 

He reached for the coffee pot that stood between them on the small round table and procrastinated for a few moments by pouring yet another cup. Somewhere down the line, he had gained a real affection for Danneel and even Jensen. Not just the way they looked or the way that Jensen's fingers could play his body, but to really care about them with their middle class naivete, their stupid little coffee shop and the mundane rhythm of their lives. It was uncomfortable for him. He felt like he was giving himself to them, piece by piece, in a way he had never done with anyone before. It would hurt to have his thoughts and fantasies rejected or ridiculed by them. A residual spark of anger flared at Miles but he had to accept that his brother was gone. This was his life now. He rubbed his hand over his chin and started writing.

 

***

They passed papers, each to the person on their right. Jared took Danneel’s and there was little on it that shocked him; a shared bed and bedroom, more information on the running of the household, for Jared to confide in them when he felt the need to cut himself. He could compromise on most of it but he wasn’t willing to give up his own space permanently. There was some frustration in Danneel’s negotiations before an agreement was reached to try to spend at least three nights a week in a shared bed. Danneel’s desire to try pegging did make him raise his eyebrows. She blushed a pretty shade of pink and shrugged. “I always wanted to try it with Jensen but he’d rather not. I’d like you to wear lingerie occasionally too, but it felt greedy to ask for more.”

 

Jensen squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and cringed, “I just...no. I’m not into receiving.”

 

With that declaration Jared switched his gaze to Jensen, “Really, I thought you wanted to?” He tried to mask his disbelief.

 

Jensen couldn’t look at Jared, he fixed his gaze on the coffee pot, “Whatever I said or did last night, I was really drunk, okay. I don’t think I could, not really. I wanted to fix things with us but I don’t think I can bottom. Not yet, maybe not ever.”

 

“Danneel’s interest piqued, “What happened last night?”

 

“Nothing!”  declared Jensen and Jared, simultaneously.

 

Jensen raised his eyes then, to look straight into Jared’s, “Thanks for stopping me, man.  My dumb drunk brain has ideas I don’t always agree with in the morning.”

 

“You might not have regretted it. It isn’t just for breeders.” Jared said quietly. He bit back on the fear that made him want to rip his list away from Jensen.

 

“I could wear panties, once in a blue moon, but nothing scratchy,” Jensen admitted to Danneel, changing the subject, “I quite liked those silky ones we tried, way back.”

 

Jared remembered to breathe, maybe Jensen wasn’t so strait-laced after all. He put his hand up, like a kid in school, “Me, me, me,” he laughed, “I’ll wear lace, or satin.”

 

Danneel looked at them both wide-eyed and licked her lips, “Crap! Do we have to finish this discussion now?”

 

“Yes!” Jared and Jensen spoke together again.

 

Danneel read Jensen’s list and by the time they were through shared mealtimes had been negotiated and time alone with Milly while the others relaxed was agreed. It surprised Jared that Jensen had made the suggestion and he hoped that Jensen and Danneel could live up to their promise not to be jealous or pressure the other for details of time spent with Jared. He didn’t comment though, only nodded politely and said ‘yes’ and then ‘yes’ again more enthusiastically at the suggestion that sex wouldn’t be confined to the bedroom. Apparently Jensen had a thing for the outdoors providing that wasps weren’t involved. Jared could swing with that.

 

Jared poured more coffee as Jensen started to read his list. He stirred it vigorously and stared at the miniature vortex he created. His other hand tapped nervously against his leg. He jumped as Jensen’s hand found his under the table and stilled it.

 

“Are you okay to continue, Jared?”

 

Jared’s leg jittered now his hand was still, Jensen stroked it reassuringly. “This list is, uh, detailed. If you wanted to rethink it you could.”

 

Jared still couldn’t look up, but he sensed Danneel moving close and reading over Jensen’s shoulder. “Jared, is this really what you want, or is it what you think we want?”

 

Jared colored then, bright streaks of red high on his cheeks, “Me, for me,” he mumbled, “I’m not a child you know.” His anxiety mounted and his leg jiggled faster. Jensen stroked it, applying pressure to slow him down.

 

“It’s fine. We’ll work through it, like we did ours,” Jensen spoke smooth and calm and Danneel sat back in her seat, chewing her lip.

 

Jared felt miserable. He knew they wouldn’t understand. They were probably disgusted with him.

 

“Okay then, the first thing you wrote,” Jensen squinted at the list in front of him. “You want to grow some scruff?”

 

Jared looked up at him abruptly, “With all the things on the list, you want to negotiate _that_?”

 

Jensen looked at him steadily, “No, quite the opposite. What bothers me is that you thought you needed our permission to do it. I don't ever want to dictate what you do with your body. You can shave or not shave, have a tattoo, pierce your nose, whatever, I'll support it.” He glanced at Danneel.

 

“Yeah, not our business,” she agreed.

 

Jared shrugged, “Miles didn't like beard burn. Nobody seems to think it appropriate on a breeder.”

 

“Well, in this relationship you're our equal. You don’t belong to us, you're our partner.” Jensen seemed genuine.

 

Grounded by Jensen’s touch, Jared took a deep breath and offered another piece of himself. “Except if I wanted to belong to you? Sometimes? If it turned me on?”

 

Jensen whistled as he breathed in and looked back at Jared’s list. Danneel put her hand on Jensen’s shoulder.  

 

“I don’t understand, Jared. If this is what you want from us, then why are you even in hiding? You could have had this from almost any match, but it’s...it’s not how I would want to treat anyone. I don’t get it.”  Jensen couldn’t hide his confusion, his hand stilled on Jared’s knee.

 

Jared blinked back tears, “Not _any match_. Not always. Not like that.” He couldn’t find the words to explain.

 

Danneel  re-read some of Jared's notes, she thought she understood, “Just in the bedroom,” she suggested.

 

Jensen’s mouth made a little ‘O’ shape and he squeezed Jared’s knee, “You mean like being an actor in a movie, having a scene until someone yells ‘cut’ and we stop.”

 

“Its called a safe word,” mumbled Jared, “I only use it if it doesn’t feel right, or it hurts too much. I never needed to use it with Miles.”

 

Danneel's nose-scrunch and a sharp breath from Jensen told Jared that mentioning his sexual relationship with Miles was a bad idea. He took Jensen’s hand from his knee and scraped his chair back.  “Sorry, I’m expecting too much.”

 

Jensen put his hand back, “Oh, no. You don’t run away.” He pointed to the pens and paper, “All this was your suggestion and it was a good one which we will follow through. Yeah, maybe we’re a little uncomfortable, but only because your sexual preferences are unexpected and we don’t know enough about them.”

 

"You can't imagine yourself as anything but a top when you're sober. Tell me you've never had a thing for an obedient little slut!” Jared’s words were a challenge.

 

Jensen tutted, “I like to be in control, okay? It's nothing to do with you being a breeder.”

 

Danneel tapped her foot and looked confused, “You like to be in control? In bed?” she queried.

 

Jensen blushed, “Well, with men. With you I like to change it about.”

 

“How many men have you been to bed with, since you – as you once put it, 'grew up'?” Jared asked.

 

Jensen was increasingly uncomfortable with the discussion, he shifted in his seat, “None since Danneel and I got engaged.”

 

Bad memories made acid words on Jared’s tongue, “But now you want to be in control of me; a whore breeder?”

 

There was something pointed, almost specific in Jared’s accusation. Jensen tried to gather his thoughts. He could admit that having Jared submit to him in bed was a turn on, but he couldn't imagine that a simpering, submissive Jared would be sexy in real life. He liked Jared's independence and particularly his ability to take charge of life's little challenges like he had when they were drunk.

 

“Jared, you’re not a whore. Whatever you did at Miles’s parties, you never were, but we all did stupid things. Control is a kink in bed. It’s just for sex and only with a partner who has the same kink but y'know, opposite. It’s not a subtlety I worked out until I was older. We couldn't have known what it all meant when we were starting out. It's not like our sex ed covered the finer points of sexual fantasies. Before Danni, I took what I wanted, I didn't ask, especially if I was paying. I copied the attitude of my peers and so much of it was wrong. It cheapened people who didn’t deserve it.” He was grateful to find the words to express himself.

 

Jared's expression softened. Something in him unwound in a way which Jensen had never seen and it made Jensen's heart plummet because Jared had seen him at Miles’s parties. He had to have witnessed some of the things Jensen did. Maybe something about Jared's hostility toward him finally made sense.

 

For Jared there was warm safety in Jensen's honesty. Long hidden truths poised unexpectedly on the tip of his tongue until they passed tipping point, tumbled from him. He spoke quietly, unsure of himself, “There was a time when you backed breeder’s rights in public and acted differently in private. You once said to Miles that a whore was lucky if they got pregnant – that they had the bonus of being paid for sex and then for selling the baby. Like it was easy. As if a person isn't fit to be a parent, or even valued if they are promiscuous.” He watched carefully for any sign of recognition from Jensen.

 

Jensen's bright green eyes stared at him for a long moment trying to make sense of Jared’s memory.

 

Danneel narrowed her eyes at Jensen, waiting for his answer.

 

“I said and did some awful things,” Jensen admitted in the end, “I was an idiot frat boy, an addict.  I thought I was better than everyone else.  I didn’t know any young breeders. I never saw their reality. Danni had more experience than me and she shared it. It changed how I felt about a lot of things, but that was after. By then I had graduated. I was drying out and had distanced myself from Miles.”

 

Danneel held Jensen's hand, “He was a college kid, Jared. He had a lot of growing up to do. You must have been the same.”

 

“Not really. I was expected to have babies at sixteen. You learn quickly where your priorities lie.”

 

“You didn't have a baby before Milly though?” Danneel asked.

 

“No, lucky me. My father died.”

 

Jensen looked pensive, cogs were turning in his brain, “How can you know what I said to Miles, Jared?”

 

Jared raised his chin and stared back. He hid his turbulent emotions behind a mask of indifference. _I thought I loved you once. I thought you saw me, not Miles. I was wrong._

 

“It’s too specific, Miles wouldn’t have remembered,” Jensen insisted.

 

“But you do?” wondered Danneel.

 

Jensen frowned. “He came to see me, suggested we go for a ride. It felt wrong, off somehow. I remember it because he let me drive, he never let anyone drive. He loved that impala. When we stopped he wouldn’t let me out of the car. He scared the hell out of me with what he said - one of his party whores was pregnant.  I thought he was singling me out...I thought...it doesn’t matter, I was sure it couldn’t have been me. I had just started dating you, Danni, I had a future planned. I couldn't risk it for some fleeting hook- up and I was defensive."  Jensen paused before speaking again, "I was mean; really cruel, yet Miles didn't yell and call me a bastard or a government suck-up. He just swapped places and drove me home in silence. He drove away so fast he almost didn't make the first bend. We didn't speak much after that." 

 

Jared shook his head and snorted.

 

Danneel noticed Jared's reaction. Sometimes Jensen couldn't see what was staring him in the face. She tipped her head at Jared and her sympathy was thick as honey, "Oh, Jared, sweetheart! You said you and Miles swapped in school. I never imagined this." 

 

 "Imagined what?" Jensen asked. A sick feeling churned at the base of his stomach and a bead of sweat appeared on his brow. There was the slow dawning of a realization he didn't want to acknowledge. 

 

Jared crossed his arms on the table in front of him. “I was a great whore and a better student. When Miles was failing the marketing module in sophomore year I stepped in. It wasn't like it was difficult but he didn't like putting the work in.”

 

“I was in his class, he was doing fine. Professor Morgan adored him,” Jensen protested.

 

Danneel tutted and Jared raised his eyebrows at Jensen, “Professor Morgan adored giving _private tuition._ " Jared said with a shudder. You see what you expect to see.” He leaned back in his chair, tipping it on two legs, faking confidence. “If you expect to see Miles and it's close enough, then you see Miles. If it dresses like a hooker and tells you it's a hooker, then you see a hooker.”

 

Jensen clutched the edge of the table, hating the way that butterflies now fluttered and barged in his stomach; hating himself.

"How long?" 

 

"After that, whenever he needed a doppelganger. A lot of morning classes, but then you graduated, a year ahead, and I only caught glimpses of you here, with Miles, with others. You didn't recognize me."

 

Danneel squeezed Jensen's shoulder, she looked directly at him, “Was he singling you out, Jensen? ” She didn't want to hear it, had heard enough once, but she was sure that Jared needed some answers. 

 

“I...I don't know. I didn't think so. I can't remember much. It isn't an excuse. Nothing is clear.” Jensen pleaded with her before turning to Jared, “If I said or did _anything_ to you, I need you to know it wasn't personal. It wasn't about you being a breeder or looking like Miles, or even thinking you were a hooker. It wasn't who I am now. It was about me being a dick. Most days I was drunk and high, or itching for the next dose and I regret it. I regret what I can remember and I am certain I would be ashamed of what I don't remember. I swear I have changed, Jared. I promise I have, and I can do more. I can make it up to you. You only have to let me know how.”

 

Jared wanted to believe Jensen. He needed to. It was enough for now. Dammit he didn't want to cry, “I know.”

 

Danneel looked at Jared, wondering what extra humiliation the past could bring her, “Do you have anything else you want to tell us, Jared? It's a long time ago. We're not going to get angry or blame you for anything.”

 

The edges of Jared's past wounds had re-opened, raw and oozing, but he had no wish to share the pain with her, “Jensen fancied Miles,” he stated flatly. “He never made a pass at Miles because he thought he was straight. Maybe I flirted and dropped hints in school, hoping that Jensen would make a pass at me, because he was hot and I wasn't Miles, but he never saw _me_ , right in front of him. As for the rest, it's like he said, maybe we hooked up but there were too many faces, too many substances. Nobody was taking notes.”

 

Danneel gave a nervous laugh. “And Milly?”

 

Jensen screwed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening.

 

“Like I said, I wasn’t taking notes. Maybe I hoped that Jensen would want her, _would want us_ , but he made his feelings clear that day. He played around but he only wanted you. Besides, Miles was happy. He loved Milly and he loved _me_. Whatever you think, we were good parents.”

 

Danneel tapped her long nails on the table. “Was there a DNA test?”

 

“It was too dangerous. There are spies everywhere in testing facilities. Does it matter? Does it change anything for Milly? Do you love her less now you know what a mess I am?”

 

“No!”

“God, no!” Jensen and Danneel answered together.

 

All defiance faded from Jared. He felt drained. He slumped in his chair, his eyes pooled with tears and his hands tensed into fists by his side. Dammit he didn't want to cry.

 

Danneel moved to his side. She placed her arms around him and hugged him tight, “She was your child and Miles's, and now she is yours and ours and we love her entirely. Nothing will change that and nobody will replace Miles.”

 

Jensen saw the scars on Jared’s wrists and wondered how many of them were his fault. All his stupidity, all his recklessness, had returned to slash his heart into shreds, but he wouldn’t cry. He had no right to wallow in self-pity. He placed one arm around Jared’s waist, thumbed the soft hair from his face and kissed his forehead. “We want you, _I want you_ and nothing is going to change that.”

 

It only made Jared sob, dammit, he hadn't wanted to cry, “But you never had a choice. Miles should never have put it in his will. It forced you.”

 

Jensen squashed a fat tear from his cheek, wiping it away with his thumb, “I’m glad he did. It made me see what I really wanted. I never would have known how amazing it is to have you and Milly and Danneel in my life. I meant what I said about making this work. Now I've met you,  _the real you_ , I know I don't deserve you, but I never want to let you go."

 

They stayed like that for a few moments before Jared sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “I feel stupid,” he said. “Can we pretend that never happened?” He straightened in his chair and their limbs untangled.

 

“Sure,” nodded Danneel, “But it wasn’t stupid and it took a lot of courage to tell us.”

 

“She’s right,” reiterated Jensen, “It helps to know. It gives me a chance to mend what I did wrong. Jared, I am so, so sorry.”

 

Jared sniffed again, clutched his pen tightly and transitioned as smoothly as he could manage, “So, I don't have to shave if I don't want to. Can I write that down?”

 

Danneel tried to sound upbeat, “Definitely. I like some cave-man vibe.”

 

“Good with me.” Jensen confirmed. He wondered if Jared could hear his voice shaking. It was going to take him a while to come to terms with what Jared had revealed. However slim the possibility, Milly could be his child and he had failed them.

 

“Jared, if you ever want to talk about it...” Danneel said.

 

“I don't.”

 

“Well, okay.”

 

“You thought I was hot,” grinned Jensen, faking bravado.

 

Jared gave him a lopsided smile, “But you were an insensitive dick.”

 

Jensen stopped smiling, “Touché.”

  
They moved onto another topic.


	15. Chapter 15

Danneel kissed Jensen lightly on his cheek. “You need to put some cream on that, it looks sore.”

Jensen smiled and ran his fingers lightly over the irritated skin of his jaw. There was a slight sting but it only served to remind him of long, lazy kisses and peppermint breath. Jared looked hot with scruff. “Mm. I’ve told everyone I’m sensitive to my aftershave. Maybe I should stop shaving.”

Danni raised her eyebrows and growled quietly, “Maybe,” she agreed, “But then you won’t be able to blame your aftershave.” She rubbed her soft cheek on his and gave him another kiss. His skin was still smooth from his morning shave. “Well, you certainly can’t blame me.”

She left his coffee on his desk and if her lipstick was a little glossier than usual, the swing of her hips a little more pronounced, she would tell you it meant nothing. It had _nothing_ to do with the way that Jensen looked at Jared or her insecurities.

Jensen watched Danneel as she disappeared through his office door, back to the coffee shop. He licked his lips, gathering the last crumbs of a buttery pastry and enjoyed the view. It was as good from the rear as the front. _Like Jared_ , he thought next, and he couldn’t help the satisfied smile he sported as he thought about him, naked and sweaty, pliant in his hands with his ass clenched tight around his dick. In two weeks they had slept together nine times. He wasn’t counting really, well maybe a little. Last night was the first time that Jensen and Jared had fucked alone. Danneel had curled fetal on the sofa with a hot water bottle, complaining of stomach pains and they had asked, of course they had, but she had waved away their concerns and insisted they had to do it alone some time.

His daydreaming was rudely interrupted. “Man, you’re a smug bastard, do you know that?” Steve dropped a hefty stack of papers on Jensen’s desk.

Jensen looked at the pile and grimaced.

“They all need checked and signed. It’s your own fault for staying holed up with Danneel for so long. Look, I’m not saying you shouldn’t fuck like bunnies. I would if I had a wife like her, but do you have to look so goddamn blissful?”

“Oh, you poor sex-starved boy!” laughed Jensen. He sat back, took a sip of coffee, gave a happy sigh and swiveled his chair in a complete circle. “You’re just jealous.”

“Hey, I’m not saying I don’t get it, but I do other things. I go out with my friends. We have fun. Remember your friends?”

His words reined Jensen’s mood in. Of course he remembered his friends, and he knew that he needed to get a grip on his new life and find a way to act normally, _like nothing had changed_ , when in fact his whole world had tipped on it’s axis and was spinning out of control. For Jensen, sex with Jared was no longer a pleasurable necessity. It had become intimate, like love, and it terrified him that Jared or Danneel may not feel the same way. Danneel seemed okay today though, he decided. Her stomach pains had eased and she had seemed content, even a little smug in their morning routine.

“Huh?” Steve had been talking but he hadn’t heard a word.

“Oh, it’s hopeless! You’re away with the fairies. I was saying that Osric and Gen and a few of the guys are going to the Pink Flamingo on Thursday night. It’s amateur night, so there will be some booty shaking and a few laughs. You should come with us. Danneel would ace the competition but don’t tell Os that. He fancies his chances on the pole.

Jensen pretended to check his diary, “Seriously Steve? Strip clubs?”

Steve sniggered, “Hey! Strange times; riots, assassinations and stockpiles of spoiled crops burning out of control in Montana. We may as well live like there’s no tomorrow.”

His reasoning was probably sound but it made Jensen uncomfortable. It reminded him of Miles. He forced himself to reply with a smile, “Oh, dude, I would _so_ make you take the stage, but we can’t come. We’ve got legal stuff to complete and I told our staff that we’d be available to talk to them that evening. You know how it is, different owners, they’re worried about their contracts,” he lied.

Steve looked doubtful, “I thought you’d been doing that for the last few weeks. What good is all that money if you can’t enjoy yourselves?”

“Red tape,” claimed Jensen, “It’s horrible, but I’m told it will be worth it. We should definitely do something. We deserve some fun. We should go for drinks after work on Friday?” He started to shuffle through the papers which Steve had given him.

Steve gave him a thumbs up, “Sounds good.”

Jensen lifted a thin file and flashed it at Steve, “What’s this?”

“Oh. An inventory. Boss wants it completed, like, yesterday. There’s a potential new investor. Sleazy dude. I didn’t like him, but I guess his money is the same as anybody else’s. Last week was crazy. I thought the entire accounts department was going to walk. The snot-nosed trainee in admin. is his guy so we should probably watch our backs. Not that you need the job, but I do.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, “You could have told me the gossip right away.”

“Didn’t want anyone eavesdropping. Snot is taking a smoker’s break right now.”

Jensen sat up straight, “You’re really worried aren’t you?”

“It’s been weird. Good to have you back though.” Steve gave a little salute as he turned to leave Jensen’s office. “Back to work! Don’t want anyone to think I’m slacking.”

Jensen looked at the pile of papers on his desk and groaned. He gritted his teeth and opened the inventory file.

***

Thursday rolled around and afternoon business was slow in the City Grind. Danneel shooed Osric and Gen out to get ready for their evening at the Pink Flamingo. They teased her for staying at home and there was a time when she would have itched to go with them, but she had bigger plans for the night. By the time Jensen crossed the street to join her she had cashed up. She sat with her feet on a black and chrome stool, sipping lemon tea.

Jensen snaked his arms around her, hugged her and kissed the back of her neck, “Hey! You look relaxed.”

She dropped her feet to the floor, and turned to greet him with an open mouthed and deep kiss.

“Mmm,” Jensen approved.

“Christian has taken Milly to his sister’s and Jared is waiting for us. Travis is fetching the limo. I’m ready to go home.”

Jensen chuckled and rubbed a concerned circle on her stomach, “No pain today?” he wondered.

“Ack. It’s been on and off since Monday. I promise I will see a doctor if it continues, but today I feel good.” She stood on tiptoes to growl in his ear, “And very horny.”

The corners of Jensen’s mouth pulled up into a wide grin and his eyes crinkled with it. Danneel loved that grin.

Their limousine pulled up by the door and Jensen took her hand, “Then let’s go.”

It was a smooth journey with Travis chatting about his day, dropping hints that Jared had gone to a lot of effort to cook a truffle risotto for dinner, so if it wasn’t to their palate, they should be tactful.

The gates to the Padalecki Estate slid open and Danneel found herself correcting her thoughts. It was now officially the Ackles Estate. Aldis Hodge had contacted them a week ago with the news that Sheppard would no longer be contesting any part of Miles’s will. With the exception of minor red tape and any personal gifts to staff, the entire house, its grounds and several holiday homes belonged to them. She still couldn’t quite believe it.

Dinner was incredible. Danneel savored the subtle fragrance, texture and taste of the truffles while Jensen barely stopped for conversation between eager mouthfuls.

They had discovered how well Jared could cook two weeks earlier, when Christian had been absent for three days, because of some family crisis. Jared had shrugged it off, told them he didn’t think it was important, because he could take care of the house. It had worked out well. Jared had looked after them with an extravagant beef wellington one night, and cheesy nachos the next. He had relaxed, become more talkative and forgotten to pick at his food. In fact, the quantity that he consumed at recent meals was astounding. They talked about movies, cars and culture and his wide, generous smile made a regular appearance. When Chris returned, Jared had remained mostly cheerful and they looked forward to his company each day. His bandages were gone from his arms and there were no new red slashes beside the healing scars. Their life was good, the sex was great, and Jensen had finally agreed with Danneel that it was time to take a risk on some of the kinks which Jared had listed.

They cleared the table together, their fingers touching as they stacked plates in the dishwasher. There was no rush, Milly was away and they had all night. It was sensible to wait, to let their food digest, yet Jared was suddenly alert, stealing small glances at them. To fulfill his role Jared had little choice but to have sex with his husband, so he waited for a signal from them, readying himself for participation. It was a habit which turned Jensen’s stomach cold however many assurances Jared gave him.

Jensen tried to break the tension, “We should play a game,” he suggested.

Danneel attempted a fancy shuffle and cut of the cards. It failed miserably and they slid and fluttered from her hands, scattering over the floor and under the couch. “Forget them!” she declared, and grabbed a set of darts.

After an hour, Jared’s winning streak was broken by a surprise bulls-eye thrown by Danneel and the game degenerated into a battle of who could distract the person throwing with the lewdest comment or grope. Jensen was on for a hundred and twenty when Jared crept behind him and fondled his ass. Jensen missed the board entirely and the dart buried itself into a montage of photographs on the wall. Jared pumped his fist victoriously.

Danneel tapped her foot and spoke sharply, “Jared, that is inappropriate behavior for our breeder. She looked at Jensen, “What do you think, darling?”

Jared turned quickly, disbelief coloring his features. He stood very still, staring at Danneel.

Jensen shook his head and wouldn't look at Jared, “I think he needs to learn his place, Danni,” he agreed.

Danneel stood in front of Jared, as tall as she could manage, and looked at him haughtily. “We decide when to touch you and when you can touch us. Do you understand?” She circled him slowly, dragging two fingers over the tight denim clinging to his thighs, reaching between his legs and back to his ass where she paused briefly to stuff a blue handkerchief in his pocket.

Jared relaxed.

She came back to her place in front of him, with her fingers trailing over the bony jut of his hips.

“What should we do with him, Jensen?” Danneel asked.

Jensen turned a dart in his hand, observing it intently. “Jared, go to to the Lincoln Suite. Strip, prepare, and wait for us there. You will learn to respect us.” The demand was awkward with what sounded like a squeak in the last word.

Jared dipped his head, “Yes'm, yes sir.” He swung his hips as he left the snug and the handkerchief in his pocket swayed in time.

He stopped outside the Lincoln Suite, took the handkerchief from his pocket and twisted it in his hand. The fine cotton bent to his will, like he would bend to theirs. The Ackles had either done this before or they’d been reading the books he’d recommended. It should feel good. He wanted this, had asked for it, but they hadn’t talked about it recently and he thought they had dismissed his desires. This seemed sudden and he had no idea what sort of scene they envisaged with him. With Miles it had been easy, the scenes had become familiar and he trusted him. At parties it had been a business transaction, with full disclosure before the act.

The door in front of him was painted bright white and the brass handle shone. He stared at it. Jared could go back to the snug, hand them the handkerchief and protest about the lack of information or he could turn the handle, enter the room and enter his submissive mind-space. He supposed there was only one crucial question to consider. Could he trust them?

Jared sighed and unfurled the handkerchief. He gripped the base of his shirt and lifted it over his head. He shivered as his nipples perked in the drafty hallway. He continued, unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper, slid them over his hips and down long legs, continued until he was naked.

He left a neat pile of clothes outside the door and when he entered he was naked, owned and owning nothing; he was a breeder – merely a toy for the pleasure of his Master and Mistress.

***

In the snug, Jensen waited until Jared had gone, looked up from his dart at Danneel and gave a nervous chuckle, “Wow, you're good. Why have I never gotten that treatment?”

Danneel stalked over to him and ran the tips of her fingers through the hair behind his ears and then down his neck to his chest, circling a nipple through his shirt. “Because, sweetheart, you get off on thinking you're in control, and I am _good_.”

“Oh, c'mon, we change it up,” he protested.

She dragged her hand to circle the other nipple, “Mmhmm.” She smiled serenely at him.

Jensen hmmphed and retrieved the errant dart from the wall. “How long should we give him?”

“I don't know. I'm muddling through on what we picked up from the books he listed and some doubtful porn I read in my teens. I haven't done this before, have you?” said Danneel.

“No, not properly. Do you think he really meant it all? It’s been going good between us. I don’t want to ruin everything.”

“He scampered off to the bedroom eagerly enough.”

“I suppose.” Jensen admitted, “Maybe give him twenty-five minutes. Time for a shower and for us to get comfortable but not long enough for him to get bored and get off on his own.”

Danni glanced knowingly at Jensen's crotch, “You mean, not long enough for you to get cold feet.”

Jensen threw his hands up in supplication, “Well, yeah! Just thinking about what he wants is insane. Distract me!”

“If you promise not to laugh in the bedroom. You almost ruined it just now. We don't want Jared to think we're mocking what he wants.”

“Okay, okay. I know it's not real but it feels weird. It feels wrong but it turns me on, and that makes me nervous.”

“So, we keep it light. Your dick doesn't seem to be complaining.”

“My dick is a Neanderthal.”

Danneel giggled. “I hope it never changes.”

“A distraction, Danni!”

“Oh, right!” She moved in to inspect the montage of pictures on the wall, passed over a group picture with Miles in his teens, frowned and then came back to squint harder at it. “Do you recognize that man?”

The face was small in a crowd of others.

Jensen scrutinized the photograph, “No. Why?”

“I don't know. It's odd. When we first got the inheritance, I did some internet research on the Padaleckis. In the media this man was always pictured somewhere behind Miles's father. At least once he was referred to as his butler, but the staff records that we gave to McNiven don't have a record of a butler. This is the only picture I've seen of him in the house and there are dozens of photographs on our walls."

Jensen looked thoughtful, “We should change that, put up our own pictures,” he said as he squinted at the tiny face, “There are some family history books in the library. He does look like someone in those. I think his name was Lehne.”

“Oh, good. I'll look him up and give her the name.”  
  
***

  
  


Jared waited for them, freshly showered and naked, kneeling on the spongy-soft carpet of the Lincoln Suite. His hair was fluffy and smelled of coconut conditioner and his face was freshly shaven and splashed with light cologne. He breathed slow and deep and tried to clear his mind of the memories which crept up on him, hammered his confidence and reminded him of his faults.

“Look at him!” Danneel strode in and stood in front of Jared, her killer heels and slim legs at eye level with him.

“So, pretty,” Jensen growled. His booted feet paced around Jared in a circle, assessing him. His fingers reached down to stroke a line down his spine from the nape of his neck ending in the crack between his buttocks. He stood behind Jared, facing Danneel and one boot nudged between Jared’s thighs, forcing a path until it halted just short of his balls, close enough to ruffle the coarse hair.

It gave Jared goosebumps. He shivered with anticipation. He kept his eyes forward and resisted pressing back against the stiff leather. In front of him, Danneel's shoes were shiny red patent and her ankles were dainty in sheer black stockings. The scent of her perfume was citrus and pleasant and it complemented Jensen's woodier cologne.

Danneel petted his hair, “Ah, now you're an obedient little breeder. What are you, a slut, unable to control yourself elsewhere?”

Jared knew better than to answer her.

“Of course. The bedroom is where he belongs – naked and ready to please. We shouldn't expect more of him,” Jensen added.

“Hmm. Perhaps his disrespect is our fault. We should use him more thoroughly and teach him better manners.” Danneel's fingernails scraped the line of Jared's jaw as she tilted his face to look up at her.

Her expression was stern looking down upon him and her fingers continued to caress the contours of his face. “What is your place in this household, breeder?” she asked.

Jared colored in shame, “In the bedroom, ma'am, on my knees, or on my back, taking cock, being bred for you.”

She slapped his face and Jensen flinched as Jared took the punishment and looked back up at Danneel. His expression was a strange mix of pain and adoration.

“No, Jared. We own you. Your place is in the bedroom, pleasing us in whatever way we choose. If we don't want to breed you then it is our decision. If we want to pound your tight little ass with a giant dildo, and watch you come on your own stomach, without a touch of dick, then you will take that dildo all the way, let it fill you and fuck you so hard you cry. Then you will show us how grateful you are to be our sweet breeder slut with that pretty pink cock-sucking and pussy-licking mouth of yours.”

Jared ducked his head, “Yes'm.”

His hair was silk in her fingers as she grabbed a handful and tugged it, “Look at me. I want to see your face. We didn't get the prettiest breeder to have him hide his face from us.”

Danneel had fantasized about this kind of play but never dared to admit it. She couldn't imagine Jensen in a submissive role and it did nothing for her. Jared though, was breathtaking. He held his body in unashamed submission, poised and composed, and his fingers were still from their usual nervous activity. She could see that Jensen was a little uncomfortable in the scene and he had flinched when she slapped Jared, but he was still in the game, gloriously growly in an alpha male stance. Both Jared and Jensen were flushed with arousal. Her own excitement tingled down her spine and made her pussy wet.

It was so easy to slip into her role and she wondered how easily Jared achieved his. It obviously wasn't new to him. It reminded her about something important.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Jensen's sudden participation, “He’s got a wonderful ass. It's got a shiny pink hole, all lubed for action. It's the sweetest ass to do whatever we want with, isn't it, darling?” He leaned over and playfully slapped Jared's left butt-cheek. Jared didn't try to avoid it or object in any way. The flesh was smooth and firm and made a satisfying _thwack_ under his palm. “Should we punish him?” he wondered, and his boot nudged Jared's balls, resting dangerously on the delicate skin.

“Hmm.” Danneel squatted in front of Jared, on his level. “No. I think firm action and positive reinforcement is enough for now; fuck the boy until he hasn't the inclination for disobedience.” She reached out to Jared’s right hand where it sank into carpet, with the handkerchief trapped beneath it. She tugged the handkerchief, “Can we time out or whatever for a moment, Jared? Are you still in there? Hold onto the handkerchief, and I promise that if you let it go or call out the word 'red' we will stop right away. Will you promise you will do that if you want to stop or if we're doing this all wrong?”

Jared blinked slowly and licked his lips. He fidgeted and his fingers curled and stretched, padding into the pile of the carpet. When he spoke his voice was hoarse, “I promise I will Danni. You're both doing fine.”

“You're thirsty. Are you thirsty?”

Jared shook his head, “No ma'am, thank you ma'am.” His body gradually stilled and his composure returned. It was fascinating to watch.

“Get useful then, Jared. Jensen still has his pants. How do you expect to service his cock like that?”

Jared sat up on his knees to turn to Jensen and his breath hitched as Jensen's boot squashed his balls uncomfortably. He changed direction and backed off, crawled three paces in a circle to kneel up in front of Jensen and mouth a wet kiss over the bulge at the front of his pants. Jensen gasped with surprise and a surge of arousal.

Danneel moved to stand behind Jared. She grabbed his head between her hands and mashed Jared's face into Jensen's groin, keeping it there for him to continue kissing and licking the coarse fabric and zipper. The big white shirt she wore barely grazed the top of her thighs and it rode up as she pushed her sex-damp crotch into the back of Jared's head.

Jared's clever fingers had Jensen's belt off in moments and his button popped soon after. His hands slid over Jensen's hips and then behind to cup his ass-cheeks. His teeth bit into metal, and the zipper came down a click at a time – and Holy Shit! That was some sort of talent, thought Jensen as he fought not to grind into him.

Danneel leaned over to Jensen and stole a kiss, with legs akimbo over Jared's head. The kiss was wet and noisy and aggressive-dirty. Their teeth clashed as tongues explored. Her hands moved up from Jared's head to unbutton Jensen's shirt and slide it off. Her hands grazed over his sensitive nipples and he trembled. Jensen's whole body was greedy for more. When his pants slid down to his ankles with Jared's long fingers and moist lips peppering kisses in their path, he thought he might come undone, like a teenager. His cock stood free and erect, curling to his stomach, throbbing for action. Danneel's fingers searched it out, to trace manicured nails up the vein of it.

“Going commando, I approve,” she purred.

Jensen’s hands smoothed her shoulders, pulled her shirt down low until he could see her round tits bouncing in time with her grind against Jared. Her buttons were easily undone and her nipples, her flat belly and hips were revealed, nude but for the silky black panties that barely covered the V of her quim, and stockings which framed the masterpiece. He moaned in pleasure. Not only because of the visual perfection of his wife, but because Jared’s slick tongue and soft lips teased the tip of his cock.

Everything came to an abrupt standstill as Danneel tugged Jared's hair dragging him away with a pained cry. Jensen groaned with loss.

Danneel used the toe of her stiletto clad foot to encourage Jared to kneel low beneath her. “You disrespectful little whore! You weren't told you could suck Jensen's cock.” She chucked her fingers under Jared's chin so he was looking up at her and she thought she could keep him that way forever, with his damp hair curling around his face, strands getting in his pleading eyes and his lips red from his successful mission removing Jensen's pants.

“Please ma'am, please. I didn't mean to disrespect. I wanted to give pleasure.”

She leaned over him and her tits swayed next to his face. She grabbed one and squeezed it in her palm as he watched, mesmerized.

Jensen had to slow his breath at the sight.

“These tits are mine. You can only touch my body when I tell you to touch it. You can only suck these if I ask you to. Sometimes Jensen will ask and that is okay, because we are equal. He can feel them and lick them and suck them if he wants. Your body belongs to us but our bodies are our own, you can only touch if we command you.”

Jensen took the cue. He came up behind her and circled her chest with his hands, cupping her tits and smoothing his thumbs over her nipples. He nuzzled her neck and he felt her stiffen as she hmm’ed with needy pleasure. He understood her body language and dropped his hands to her waist. This whole scene was affecting them in a way he hadn’t experienced before. He was strung out with arousal. It was hot and needy and full of possibilities. He needed to control himself, draw things out longer.

Danneel adjusted her position so that Jensen's erection no longer snugged into the curve of her spine, driving her to distraction. “Stand up!” she ordered Jared.

He was quick to obey her, his arms at his side and his gaze to the floor.

She cupped his balls and rolled them in the palm of her hand, then squeezed lightly, until Jared's breath quickened and she could see him biting his bottom lip. “These balls, your cock, your pretty hole - the whole of your body is ours and we will do whatever we want to it, whenever we like.” She released his balls and slid her hand up the length of his cock. She didn't release him, but held him firm by the tip of it.

The sensation was intense for Jared. He wanted to roll his hips and masturbate into her hand but he was a good boy, the pleasure was not his to take. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore her touch, her ripe tits on display and, just beyond her, the acres of Jensen's freckled, lickable skin, and his cock standing proud, ready to fill and pound his ass. He couldn't take without permission. He had to wait to be used. “Please, please,” he begged, “Punish me if you have to, but please breed me.”

“Because you're a breeder whore?” asked Jensen, without a hint of hesitation or embarrassment.

“Yes,” replied Jared quietly.

“Lie on your back on the bed with your hands above your head.”

“Yessir. Thank you sir.” He hustled to the bed, a size big enough for an orgy and probably used for the purpose more than once.

“Arms above your head, you don't get to touch. Spread your legs. You're ours to admire,” demanded Jensen, “Wider! Get your hips up. I want you to display your big, beautiful, cock, those vulnerable balls and your sweet come hole – so eager for use."

Jared shuffled his body on the covers, and spread his thighs wide, bringing taut muscles into definition and revealing his substantial, heavy balls and the tight pucker of his ass. He widened his eyes and licked his lips slick. His hole felt empty. He wanted, no, needed Jensen to fill him up  
  
They stayed like that for a minute, watching Jared thrash his head, his whole body begging without saying a word, and it seemed like ten minutes or more. Jensen felt like the wait might kill him, he licked his lips and dug the heel of his palm into his erection.

“Should we punish him?” wondered Danneel.

“He wants to be bred, he's prepped to be bred, but he was greedy to suck my dick. Also, look at his cock...” Jensen climbed onto the bed next to Jared. He caressed Jared’s inner thighs then licked a finger and teasingly traced his breeder’s dick from base to glans, pausing to circle around the slit. Well defined muscles contracted under his caress, became rock solid and taut.

Jared was desperate to hump into Jensen’s hand, yet forbidden to. He whimpered. “Please,” but nobody listened.  
  
“It's a magnificent cock. What a pity if it has to be redundant,”  
  
Painted fingernails thrilled a dangerous trail around Jared’s nipples digging into the flesh deep enough to leave a mark. He groaned.

Jensen leaned over and kissed along the indent of Jared's hips. “He wanted to suck my cock. I think Jared should choke on my cock while somebody else gets bred.”

Jared's hole was empty, crying out to be filled. It was unfair, but he lived to please his Master and Mistress. His cock was at attention, and his balls still throbbed for release but he had been disobedient and must bear the consequences. He nodded his agreement and his hips pushed up, searching for friction. How could they stand to wait?

Danneel abandoned any plans to make Jared take her panties off with his mouth. She was dripping wet and his cock was mouth-wateringly hard. She pulled them down hastily, tripping face-into-mattress as they got caught on her high heels. She kicked all of them off impatiently.

Jensen stroked Jared's hair, and caressed his chin before he knelt over him. He dragged his balls over Jared's face, coarse hair tickled Jared's lips and the smell was strong with musk and sweat.

“Suck my balls! I want you to clean them with your mouth and lick them like an obedient breeder.”

Jared opened his mouth to take them carefully on his tongue, almost drooling with enthusiasm. He was unable to see anything but the underside of Jensen's cock and balls when Danneel straddled him and lined his dick up with her cunt. She sank down on him in almost a single move wriggling to get him deep into her tight, wet passage. He froze for a moment, shocked by the sensation, and ceased suckling Jensen's sacs. It was humiliating to remain unbred while they used his body, but it was what he deserved. Jensen moved, and before Jared could apologize Jensen's dick slapped across Jared's cheek.

“I didn't tell you to stop.” Jensen reprimanded him. “You better not slack again. You're going to suck my cock like a pro, and you're going to give Danni the ride of her life. Open your mouth.”

Danneel and Jensen looked up at Jared's hand simultaneously. His arms lay obediently above his head and his right hand curled around the blue handkerchief. Jensen gave it a questioning tug and Jared gripped it tighter.

Jensen sank his cock into Jared's mouth at the same time as Danneel raised herself above Jared. She circled her cunt at the tip of his dick and slapped his thigh. “Work for it!” She ordered. “Or I won't let you come.”

They rode him mercilessly and he reveled in the slap of Danneel's ass against his skin, her nails digging into his thighs and the sting of her pinching his nipples. He choked for air on Jensen's cock. His lips stretched around its girth, his nose deep in pubic hair and tears rolled down his cheek. Jensen pulled out for a moment and his expression was full of concern. Jared kept his mouth open, begging like a baby bird, and Jensen slammed back in, hitting the roof of his mouth and making him cough. Jared recovered quickly, to suck him to the root while his tongue danced delicately over veins and ridges.

“God, Jared! That's it. I’m fucking your face. Take it all. Good boy, so good,” he started to babble, and Jared knew that Jensen was at the edge.  
  
Jensen withdrew abruptly from Jared's mouth, squeezed his fingers at the base of his throbbing cock and panted for air, determined to prove he wasn’t some overeager teenager. _Fuck,_ it was difficult to hold off his orgasm while their boy’s body shone with sweat, his mouth drooled with spittle and precome, and Danneel rode him like a magnificent steed, she sat up on Jared’s thighs, dictating their rhythm with her hands on his thighs.  
  
Jensen scooted down the bed to lie between Jared’s ankles, watching his ass work, a powerful thrust up to meet Danneel’s downward plunge. His balls slapped against her pussy as he impaled her and then there was the downward stroke, long and slow and covered in juices. Jensen squeezed the base of his cock again, almost in tears with the need to orgasm, but Jared’s sweet hole was revealed on each upward stroke and it looked needy and empty. He reached over to a drawer and pulled out the item he had hidden there earlier. A dildo shined with lube. It was slim and a modest four inches in hot pink silicone. He held it up for Jared to see. “Do you want your slut-hole filled, Jared? Do you want me to shove a dildo all the way into your pretty ass while you please your Mistress?”

A bright smile and drawn out moan indicated his enthusiasm. “Yes sir, please sir, want to be fucked. Need to be filled.”

“Okay, then earn it." Jensen placed the dildo down carefully on the bed, smirked at Jared's obvious frustration and crawled back over Jared’s face. He slid his cock between those magnificent wide and soft lips, into the warmth of his mouth. "Work this slutty mouth, show me you what you’re good for." He pushed deep, worked his cock into the fluttering muscles of his throat until Jared was quiet, the outline of Jensen's cock in stark relief in his neck, and still Danneel rode Jared, and Jared took it all because he was sexy and beautiful and _theirs_. Three thrusts was all it took, and then Jensen was coming with a loud shout, “Fuck...Jare...fuck!” He pulled out and let the last of his seed shoot over Jared's face, willfully wasting it. Globs of it stuck dirty to Jared's lips and cheeks and dribbled down to his ear. Jared licked what he could from his lips and gulped obscenely. His tongue resumed duties, cleaning Jensen's softening cock before Jensen pushed him away and lifted his knee back over Jared to sit exhausted and satisfied by his side.

Jared still had work to do. His head fell back onto the pillow and he arched his back up to meet Danneel.

Jensen watched the show, making patterns with his fingertips in the come on Jared's face. He scooped it up and fed it to him, let him suck it hungrily from him before sliding back down the bed with the dildo, reaching under his wife and their breeder to push the dildo against Jared’s empty hole.

“Agh. God. Please. Do it. Please. Fuck me.” Jared came to a halt, desperate for it.

Jensen slapped Jared’s thigh with a satisfying sting, “Don’t stop. You have to work for it.”

He was beautiful coated in come and perspiration. Jensen couldn't tear his eyes from him as Jared redoubled his efforts, pushing onto the dildo just a little at each down stroke, desperate for every inch. His muscles were taut and trembling and his chest heaved with exertion. Danneel leaned over Jared. her back dipped and her hair tumbled around her face. Her tits bounced and she dragged her nipples over his chest on each down stroke. Her mouth opened in a perfect O to let out short whimpers and groans and the occasional “Yes there,” or “Harder.” She was so close.

Jensen twisted, pushed and pulled the dildo, fascinated by the way Jared's hole swallowed it, the grip and slide in eager muscles.  
  
The blue handkerchief balled tight and salty damp in Jared's white-knuckled fingers. Jared's other hand scrabbled against the sheets fighting for purchase. His teeth clenched, his eyes squeezed shut, and his toes curled. “I can't... I need...please...please, I need to come. I have to,” he pleaded for permission.

If Jensen wasn't immersed in his post-orgasmic haze he could get hard just thinking about what Jared was asking. He had always thought that being able to delay an orgasm until permitted was some sort of myth. Jared was so perfect.

“Oh you sweet, sweet, boy,” Jensen muttered, “Of course you can come.” He leaned in and kissed him, tasting his own wasted semen on the sex-battered lips and licking it from the welcoming wet depths of his mouth. He felt them come, Danneel's shuddering orgasm through Jared's flesh and Jared's more intimately, in the exclamation stifled by Jensen's mouth.

“Oh! My! God!” Danneel panted, sagging over Jared's sweat-shiny body.

Jensen worked the dildo carefully from Jared’s lax body while Danneel got off Jared with the squelch of sweaty flesh, and flopped on the other side of him. Come and cunt juices coated Jared's softening cock and smeared shiny on their thighs.

“That was incredible,” she enthused between gasping breaths. She shuffled up to where Jensen was languidly kissing Jared, put her lips on both of theirs and they opened up to her. It wasn't practical but it was close and full of affection. The kiss ended and they all fell back onto the bed. Danneel placed her hand softly on Jared's heaving chest. He was worryingly silent aside from fast heavy breaths and his eyes were closed.

Jensen’s post-sex haze started to clear and he was abruptly aware of how callously they had used Jared. He felt a little sick, like a hangover. He was horrified that he was capable of such selfish behavior. He had immersed himself in the scene and he had enjoyed it.

“You know Jensen,” Danneel said, as she stroked her hand over Jared's breast and curled a finger into the soft hair there, “Jared is such a good boy, bright, and quite delicious, worthy of much more than breeding. We cannot confine him to our bedroom.”

Jensen smiled at her gratefully. She was proving to be so much better at this than he was.

“We got the best when we got him,” he agreed. “He is such a wonderful boy.”

“Mmhmm,” Danneel agreed, then wrinkled her nose, dropping out of character, “Ugh. We're a mess.”

Grateful for an excuse to escape, Jensen got up and padded to the bathroom. “I'll get something to clean us up.” He came back with a stack of warm, wet flannels and some fluffy towels. He handed them to Danneel, then disappeared once more. He returned with a jug of juice, tumblers and a box of chocolates. Danneel cleaned Jared gently, with reassuring words and his eyes opened but remained hazily focused.

Jensen had read the same books as Danneel, had educated himself on aftercare and however bad he felt, he knew he had to step up and help her with their sub. He sat next to Jared and curled an arm under him, easing him into a sitting position and offered him juice. “Hey, Jared. It’s safe. You were so good. You can come back now.”

Jared's hand slowly uncurled around the handkerchief. He let the square of fabric go and took the glass.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Take your time.” Jensen gave him a closed-lip kiss on the curve of his shoulder. “We've got as long as you need. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Jared gave a lazy smile, “What are you sorry for. I'm good. Real good. Mmhm.” He peered at the chocolate box and carefully selected a strawberry cream to pop in his mouth.

Danneel fussed over him, “Are you sure you're alright? Should we be doing something more? Talking about it?”

“Later,” said Jared, “Can you stay with me?” He stretched his hand out to them, a childlike gesture.

“Of course! We weren't planning to leave you. If we all get off the bed for a moment we can take off the cover and there's fresh sheets underneath.”

“You're so organized. Are you sure you haven't done this before?” Jared winked playfully at her and she relaxed a little.

They cuddled in a naked heap under the sheets with Jared sandwiched in the middle, and their limbs tangled. They shut their eyes and dozed.

Jensen tossed and turned, the awful things he had said and done to Jared replayed in his mind. Eventually he gave in and elbowed Jared in the ribs. “Y'awake?” he asked.

“Now I am,” Jared complained. “What is it?”

Danneel didn't stir.

“I need to know – why? Why did you ask us to do that? How could you get off on that scene?”

Jared yawned, “What you really want to know is why you enjoyed it, why you got off on it, isn't it?”

Jensen scrunched his face up in distaste. “Maybe both. I did and said things that I don’t like. I'm not really like that but I thought you weren't either.”

Jared turned to face him. He placed a hand over Jensen's heart, “You’re a good person, Jensen. I’ve learned that. We've done a lot together – intimate, sexual things and you have never once asked for anything I couldn't give. That's why I trusted you. Think of it like a horror movie. It’s a free fall into all the fears that haunt a person. We watch it anyway, in a dark theater. We immerse ourselves in the head-space, because we know it's not real, yet the excitement – that kick of adrenaline and the way our body thrills _is real_. It's a rush, but we're in a safe place and we come out of it intact. I can choose to give myself over to what has scared me all my life, let go and let it thrill me instead, yet I retain the power to stop it at any time. So do you. That's why it turns me on. For you, power is intoxicating. It is what you were conditioned to lust for and you can take it without consequences or guilt.”

His explanation made sense. “Huh. I guess.”

Jared grinned, all dimples and white teeth, "And I'm a magnificent sub, admit it!"

Jensen shook his head, grinned back, "Yeah, you are."

“Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Sorry. Of course. I was worried about you, worried that you would hate us.”

Jared rested his head against Jensen's chest, his hand still over his heart. “M'know.”

They slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are candy for my soul and I'd love to know what you think as I progress.
> 
> Notes: While I love conjecture as to where my fic is headed, all my fic has plot and character arcs fully decided before I write a word. This story was originally plotted for BigBang2015 and was in no way intended to resemble or mirror real life. Any similarity is coincidental and not intended to be disrespectful to the real J2 and their families in any way. I never deviate from that however hard it is on my reader's expectations!  
> All my characters have flaws and most will be hurt in measures through the story. Be reassured, I will never use my fic to 'wife bash'.


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